Guest Starring
by Lucinda
Summary: Sequel to 'With Special Guest' Cordelia is asked to return to the cast of Galaxy Quest as Princess Mirabanna. The role will be far larger than any of them expect.
1. parts 1 and 2

author: Lucinda   
  
rating: pg 13.   
  
main characters: Willow, Cordelia, Alex Dane   
  
pairings: Cordelia/Jason Nesmith, Willow/Alex Dane, Gwen DeMarco/Angel, mention of Fred Kwan/Laliari   
  
This is the sequel to 'With Special Guest'.   
  
disclaimer; I own nobody from Buffy/Angel or from Galaxy Quest. There may be a few minor original characters.   
  
distribution: Bite Me, WLS, NHA, Twisting the Hellmouth, anyone else please ask, I'll probably say yes.   
  
note: AU post season 6ish for BtVS timeline, AU season 2 for Angel. Begins aproximately one month after 'With Special Guest'. :Words in colons: are over a telephone or communications device.   
  
"Ohhh. That man is so.... arrogant! Why am I still seeing him?" Cordelia's voice, filled with conflicting emotions, rang out into the hotel.   
  
Willow smiled, partly because she found herself wondering that same thing on occasion, and partly because it still occasionally seemed odd that she was now good friends with Cordelia. "What did you say the last time Angel asked that? Because his kisses curl your toes? Or maybe because the pair of you look good in photos together?"   
  
"Using my words against me... isn't that illegal or something?" Cordelia sighed, dropping into a chair with a sigh.   
  
"It's only unconstitutional to force you to testify against yourself in a court of law, which this isn't. Nice try though." Willow smiled, floating a bottle of water towards the tired looking seer, causing a thin film of frost to form over the plastic as she magically chilled it.   
  
Cordelia caught the bottle, opening it with a smile. "Thanks... and we do look good on camera together, and he does kiss really good. But... there's got to be more than that, it's just..."   
  
"It sort of reminds me of you and Xander, with more arrogance. You fought all the time with Xander, and then made up. That's sort of similar to what you're doing with Jason." Willow paused, glad that it no longer hurt to think of that relationship, that the pain she'd felt when she'd found out had faded. "I think the conflict makes you feel more alive."   
  
"No psycho analyzing me. I don't get paid enough to afford it." Cordelia teased.   
  
Willow grinned, tossing a bag of letters to her friend. "Cheer up. Not only do you get the occasional Rosenberg analysis free of charge, you have letters. I think you've got fan-mail."   
  
"Fan-mail?" Cordelia sat up, her eyes almost glowing with delighted enthusiasm. "I've got fan-mail?"   
  
"Long live Princess Mirabanna." Willow tried not to giggle, and almost succeeded. Fortunately, Cordelia was too busy looking at the letters to notice.   
  
The phone rang, and Willow reached over, lifting the handset and trying to sound professionally calm. "Hello, may I help you?"   
  
:Yes, I'm trying to contact Cordelia Chase. Is this the correct number?: The voice was a calm sounding woman.   
  
"Just a moment please." Willow lowered the phone, and looked at her gleeful friend. "Cordelia! Telephone."   
  
Leaving the letters scattered over the chair, Cordelia darted over, snatching the phone from Willow's hand. "This is Cordelia Chase."   
  
She almost looked like she was dancing as the woman spoke to her, although Wilow couldn't quite make out the words. But considering that smile, she had the feeling that whatever the woman was saying was very, very welcome indeed.   
  
"Of course I can come back. When?" Cordelia getured, and began writing something down on a pad of paper, still smiling gleefully. "Thank you."   
  
Carefully, Cordelia put the phone down, and then turned towards Willow, smiling and bouncing with delight. "Mirabanna's making a second appearance! They want me to come back! Isn't that wonderful?"   
  
Smiling, she gave her friend a quick hug. She couldn't quite resist teasing a little. "It does sound wonderful. Of course, there will probably be another on screen kiss for the two of you..."   
  
"Oh, that's just... well, yeah. And what princess goes anywhere without her handmaiden? You get a return appearance too, most likely." Cordelia smiled wickedly. "Just think, the lights, the cameras, the costumes..."   
  
"The make-up, the nausea, the attacking demonic things..." Willow frowned, thinking about the possibility of a return appearance of the Handmaiden. "Alex said there was a script being discussed with Mirabanna in it, but he didn't want me to get your hopes up. Lots of scripts get discussed and rejected. But if they're casting, or recontacting the cast or whatever, then that's got to be a good sign. We can go over tomorrow, see if there's a script yet."   
  
"No, we don't need any attacking demonic things this time around! I refuse. As the Princess, I decree this visit to the set will be demon free!" Cordelia looked annoyed and worried, and made the proclamation in her best Princess voice.   
  
Willow sighed, looking at Cordelia. "Do you really think it will be that easy? Declare no problems, and it will be so?"   
  
With a casual shrug, Cordelia glanced at the phone, trying not to smile. "I can certainly hope so, can't I?"   
  
end part 1.   
  
Alex smirked a bit as he watched the scene currently being filmed. Fred and Laliari held the camera's attention, and they were struggling with some sort of potentially life threatening engine problem.... He had the feeling that this would somehow end up being the catalyst to the return to Mirabanna's world. He'd been hoping that the script would be approved, for the chance to have Willow on set again. Not that he wasn't still seeing her off set every chance that he could, but having her here again would be delightful. Especially since she found the Laz-Tawny subplot amusing. She'd made the comment that she would have to be upset if he kissed Gwen, but since they were scripting Laz... just make darn sure he remembered that the two were not interchangable. Her warning had been... on the one hand, a delightful sign that she cared, and another, a glimpe that hinted at previous heartache. It helped that he didn't actually think of Gwen that way. Yes, she was an attractive woman, but she wasn't what he wanted....wasn't Willow.   
  
"What has you looking so amused?" Gwen's voice teased at him, holding a cup of coffee in one hand, and offering him tea with the other.   
  
"The Mirabanna script was approved." He accepted the tea, sipping at it. He wondered just how close Gwen had gotten to Willow's friend Angel. They had talked a few times, but there hadn't been any actual dates, which did leave him wondering. Not that it was actually any of his business, but still...   
  
Gwen smiled, looking pleased as well. "So Willow and Cordy will be back. Is she still... hmmm, theraputically deflating Jason's ego?"   
  
"It would take far more than dating Jason to make her stop deflating egos. I suppose Angel might be lurking on the set as well..." Alex tossed the comment out, hoping for some sort of clue at what was happening.   
  
"Maybe. Angel's good at lurking." Gwen sighed, looking almost frustrated for a moment.   
  
Alex nodded, seemingly returning his attention to Fred's scene. "Do you have any idea why Fred's got a bag of coffee beans in his dressing room?"   
  
"Just something about a Karaoke club that he and Laliari went to a few weeks back. They sang Sonny and Cher. On stage." Gwen paused, sounding faintly disturbed. "Laliari's... I just have trouble picturing her doing Karaoke."   
  
"I can see her doing that, it is a Terran cultural experience, you know. But Fred Kwan, on stage singing? That would be... different." Alex looked at the couple, wondering how they managed to be so continuously happy together. It just seemed so amazing.   
  
"Shall we have maintenance make certain the elevators are working properly this time?" Gwen subtly teased, before wandering off with her coffee.   
  
Alex scowled a little, trying not to let himself get caught smiling at the memory of that. It was the most delightful period of near claustrophobia that he'd ever had. Just Willow and himself in a broken elevator... With Willow, just about anything felt less frustrating. He just found himself hoping that there would be no more Fangor Beasts on the set this time. Granted, she and Cordelia had dispatched the beast that had attacked, but he'd just about had a heart attack, and Jason's leg was still giving him twinges. Excitement like that was not anything they needed, nor was that the way to learn more about Willow's magic. He's seen her do a few small things in the time they'd been dating, lighting candles by touching the wick, floating dropped keys back into his hand, a few words to mend a ripped seam... nothing like that green bolt or invisible wall. He thought he might like to continue learning about magic slowly.   
  
Collecting the new script, Alex smiled, thinking about the opportunity to see Willow in that dress again. She may have felt a bit self-conscious about it until the Fangor had attacked, but it had looked splendid on her. Willow would be here again...   
  
end part 2. 


	2. parts 3 and 4

Cordelia was feeling pretty good about life in general at the moment. She'd got a call asking if she could come back and play Mirabanna again, which would not only give her more time with Jason, but paid nicely as well. Angel Investigations had been doing pretty good lately, and there had been a nice sale at her favorite shoe store. What more could she ask for from life?   
  
For a moment, she sat tensely, waiting for something, anything dreadful to happen. Surely something would come along and shatter the contentment, an attacking demon, a telemarketer, a vision... But nothing happened. She smiled, heading towards the kitchen. Hadn't she left a pint of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer? Good news like this called for some celebration.   
  
She'd just gotten settled, ice cream in one hand, a spoon in the other when the vision hit. Nothing too unusual, just a nest of vampires planning some weird mystical ritual thingy that Angel would need to take out, but... She had dropped her spoon, and her hair ended up with ice cream all over it. How frustrating. At least Ben & Jerry's was all natural.   
  
"Sometimes I really hate this job." There really wasn't much more to it than that. Fortunately, Angel returned to the hotel shortly after the mind shattering vision, and she could relay it in all the gory details.   
  
Angel was wise enough not to comment on the ice cream in her hair.   
  
Instead, he just nodded, and asked "Was there any particular statues or maybe an amulet for the ritual? Some sort of idol, perhaps? Something to break and ruin things?"   
  
"Yeah, there was this ugly little statue of some... pig thing with big tusks and only two feet. Made out of some dark stone. You might have better luck scattering their lines and diagrams than breaking the idol." Cordelia sighed, putting the lid back on her ice cream. There were times when the best thing to do would just be to go to bed and hide.   
  
"Thanks, Cordy." Angel started towards his office.   
  
Shaking her head, Cordelia started up the stairs to a room that she kept here. She really wanted a shower before she left. "I am so looking forward to being Mirabanna again. Even if only for a little while... respect, a wardrobe, and the life of luxury... Why can't things ever work like that in real life? Why can't I end up with silk gowns instead of slimy demon guts?"   
  
Perhaps with her years of experience, Cordelia should have known better than to offer such complaints out loud. Perhaps she thought that she was safe because there was no strange demons, talismans or idols present, and she didn't use the word 'wish'. Or perhaps, with the pounding ache from her latest vision, Cordelia really didn't care or think about any possible consequences.   
  
She should have thought about them.   
  
End part 3   
  
"Will the summons be tested?" The words carried an odd accent, one that would raise eyebrows even in Los Angeles. The speaker seemed almost normal, except that his skin was too pale, his dark hair too perfectly cut, his suit too neat. He should have looked like a lawyer, or an out of place businessman, instead, he resembled a shadow or a snake. He didn't move quite right either, his motion too fluid, as if his bones were flexible.   
  
The vampire looked back at the man, sneering slightly. "Of course they'll try it. I told them that it was a powerful artifact, and that they should under no circumstances try to invoke Goriknak. I figure they'll be chanting within forty eight hours tops."   
  
"By telling them to avoid it, you are certain they will use it? Such curious people…" The odd pale man shook his head, his square white teeth showing in a smile that held more calculation than amusement.   
  
"Yeah, well… curious thing. I don't feel the need to take orders from some out of towner." The vampire snarled, his features changing as he stalked towards the pale figure.   
  
"Ahhhh, aggressive behavior. A challenge, and a situation demanding the death of one rival. If you insist." One hand reached out, shifting into an orange tentacle with several ends, wrapping around the vampire's head and jerking back, the sound of the vertebra popping clearly audible before the vampire's head was removed entirely, the spinning body crumbling to dust as it fell.   
  
Wiping the appendage that once again looked mostly like a hand, the few clinging specks of dust fell away as the flesh returned to a flat pale hue, entirely unlike the orange tentacle. "So hard to find decent help."   
  
Dismissing the fallen vampire, the creature in the suit pulled out a small device, and activated it with a chirping noise. Leaning slightly towards it, a series of clicks, chirps and other noises, almost like something from a dolphin or whale emerged from him. A similar group of noises, made slightly tinny by the communications device emerged in response.   
  
Once again with the calculating smile in place, the pale creature began to move, on his way out of the meeting place. There was still so much to do. More things to spread out, in preparation for establishing their power base, more groundwork for their plan. After all, if conquest was easy, more people would succeed at it.   
  
End part 4. 


	3. parts 5 and 6

Alex Dane was feeling pretty good as he made his way from the parking lot to the set. He'd had pleasant dreams, the Mirabanna script was approved which meant that Cordelia and hopefully Willow would be back on the set, and there hadn't been more that two cars ahead of him at Starbucks. As he neared the set, he frowned, noticing that Fred Kwan's van was already here. What would bring Fred and Laliari in so early?   
  
With a casual nod to the security guard, he slipped inside. The sooner he found them, the sooner he could hope to be reassured that it was no more than a restless night. Or at least, the sooner he could find out what was happening.   
  
"Alex… we may have a slight problem." Fred's drawl was the sort of laid back calm that would have prompted some people to just nod and say 'deal with it', fooled by Fred's laid back behavior.   
  
Alex wasn't one of those people. He knew better. Fed had once said 'They think the engines might blow up. Just thought you might like to know.' while they were on a real space ship in the middle of cold, unforgiving space with the exact same casual air. If Fred was calling something a 'slight problem', it was something that would have a more normal person running in circles panicking. "What's wrong?"   
  
"Well, Laliari got a call last night from Malthesar. It seems there's a group pf trouble makers in our part of the universe, up to the usual tricks. He was worried they might cause some trouble here." He shrugged, his dark eyes alert and full of unreadable calculations. "Good thing I got that coffee, we may need it."   
  
Knowing that he wouldn't like the answer, Alex looked at Laliari. "What are the usual tricks?"   
  
She was frowning, her skin sort of rippling. Perhaps she was trying to imitate a shiver? "Piracy, theft of dangerous artifacts and technologies… weapons smuggling. They want… they want to remove the proper authorities and rule planets. The Protector is one of several ships sent out to various areas looking for the escaped prisoners, to take them back for execution."   
  
"No trial?" The question emerged as he was trying to calculate the potential problems of the situation.   
  
"They had trials, and were sentenced to imprisonment for the rest of their lives on a hostile, uninhabited world. They… umm… escaped." She looked at him, her eyes glimmering purple and worried.   
  
"Escaped. You mean to say that a group of prisoners… pirates and would be world conquerors armed with advanced technology have escaped, and are hiding in places unknown? And the assorted forces…. Nobody's quite certain where they've gone?" Alex blinked, trying without success to wake up from a horrible nightmare. Surely this was just a bad dream. Then, the words slipped out. "How could matters get any worse?"   
  
"They may have the procedure to summon Goriknak." Laliari's words were not reassuring in the least.   
  
"Wonderful." Alex closed his eyes, only belatedly remembering something that Willow had said had been one of several mottos from Sunnydale – 'Never ask how things could get worse, because they always can.'   
  
As he walked on in, Alex nodded towards the various technical people, and offered a small wave towards Tawny. At least things looked like they were running smoothly on the set. No more equipment failures or sabautoges.   
  
Jason sauntered over, a big grin on his face. "We start working on the new episode rehearsals today. With our trip back to the world of Mirabanna."   
  
"And will Cordelia be joining us today, or later this week?" Alex smiled a little, looking forward to watching the way Cordelia and Jason interacted. Intensity, there was plenty of that, and frequent conflict.   
  
"I hadn't heard yet." Jason tried to look uninterested, as if he was above all of that questioning. It didn't quite work.   
  
"Well, we shall just get to work. They will arrive when they arrive." Alex smiled, trying to push away the news of Malthesar's return, of escaped pirates. It would be best to just focus on what he could control for now.   
  
End part 5.   
  
Angel growled with frustration as he continued through the sewers, Wesley trailing behind. Cordelia had a vision, and she'd described the room rather well. Unfortunately, there had been nothing to tell him where to find that room. Nothing. He'd been searching through warehouses all night, retreating to the underground network as the sun rose.   
  
Angel hated the sewers.   
  
Wesley was muttering to himself, about all the reasons why sewers were unhealthy. He'd insisted that Angel might need someone to watch his back, and had gone out, armed with a crossbow and a sword. Now, Angel was reminded of the benefits of solitude. And what if those ritual casting vampires hurt Wesley?   
  
Something prickled at his attention. Was that sound chanting, or the scurrying of many rat feet? Did he smell some sort of unpleasant incense, or was that just the varied scent of the sewers? Could they finally be drawing close to their quarry?   
  
"Wesley. I think there might be something ahead. Stay close, and move quietly." He gestured, hoping that they had fund them. Hoping that their search was about over, so that he could go back to the hotel, take a shower to remove the sewer stench, and have some blood before getting some sleep.   
  
Nodding, Wesley moved closer, a resigned expression on his face. "How many did she say there would be?"   
  
"She said that she saw six, but had the feeling there were more in the room." Angel made a slight shrug, at this point not worried with how many, as long as he could just get it over with. He was tired, he was hungry, and he despised sewers.   
  
Softly, they drew closer, and Angel was now certain that it was definitely chanting. But… it wasn't Latin, or Greek. Not Russian or French or any other language that he could recognize, which included several demon tongues as well. There was a doorway, with a solid looking lintel and a slightly rusted fire door.   
  
Reaching out, Angel tried the door knob, surprised when the handle turned easily. If they're conjuring something, why wouldn't they take a few seconds to lock the door behind them?   
  
Angel flung open the door, already moving to attack the first vampire as Wesley was still in the hall. He smiled, amazed at just how caught up in all of this they were. Now to kill theses idiots and go home…   
  
It wasn't until all of the chanters had fallen to dust that Angel looked carefully around the room. The lines were scuffed, the chanters dead, and the idol… where was the idol? It must have fallen from the pedestal during the fight. Could it have broken?   
  
There was a short of cracking noise, not unlike something hatching. It was followed by a series of almost meaty pops and stretching noises, and little grunting sounds. Angel had a bad feeling about those noises. "Wesley? What's the word Goriknak mean, and what happens if it's conjured up?"   
  
"Actually, the term isn't familiar to me." Wesley sounded as if he was trying to catch his breath. "But… I don't think that thing from the alter is stone anymore."   
  
There was a squealing noise, and something stood up, glaring at them with little beedy eyes. Yellowed tusks emerged from a wide mouth, and there was this sort of smell… It's head came nearly to the height of Angel's waist, and it's body was all wiry muscles covered in a leathery bluish hide with bristly hairs.   
  
"And I rather think it's omnivorous." Wesley stated.   
  
Naturally, that was the moment the piggish thing decided to attack. With a fearsome squealing, it charged towards Angel, the tusks looking sharp as the creature's head moved side to side from the motion of it's body.   
  
Angel rolled to the side, eyes darting around as he sought a weapon. "Omnivorous and hungry. There's a reason why I never liked pigs…"   
  
It charged again, apparently not having noticed Wesley yet. This time, Angel neatly sidestepped, his sword opening a gash along it's side.   
  
With something halfway between a squeal and a roar, it spun around, hooves clicking on the floor as it glared at it's intended prey and tormentor. Something about it seemed different. It looked a bit lighter, a bit… was it taller now?   
  
"Wes, you're the expert on conjured things, should it be getting bigger?" Angel felt a bit of worry go through him. The thing wouldn't be too bad at waist high, but… what if this was still the baby version?   
  
"I wish I knew." There was the sound of motion, as if Wesley was trying to do something… picking something up from the floor perhaps?   
  
Squealing, the thing charged again. With a growl, Angel slashed at it with the sword, this gash a full hand span lower on it's side than the first one. It was definitely taller now. It spun around, as if it was gaining coordination as they fought. Not an encouraging sign.   
  
With a deep snort, it prepared to charge, the tusks now longer and darker. Was it poisonous? Did it carry infections? Angel prepared his sword, ready to try yet again to kill this… goriknak pig. There was a twanging noise, and a crossbow bolt was suddenly embedded in one of the creature's eyes.   
  
It made a shrill noise that sounded remarkably like a scream, and charged towards Angel, it's movements clumsier. Growling, Angel slashed out, almost severing one leg and causing the creature to topple over. After that, it didn't take much for him to finish it off.   
  
"Well, now that that's over with, let's go home." Angel grinned, more than ready to leave.   
  
"Yes, by all means let's go." Wesley staggered towards the door, just as eager to leave.   
  
They were in such a hurry that neither of them noticed the groaning noises. They did hear the sound of stone falling, but thought little of it. After all, they had killed the vampires, and the monstrous pig thing that the idol had become. What more was there to worry about?   
  
Possibly the mass of rock and stone assembling itself into a crudely humanoid shape over the site of the ritual, the large alter-block now forming part of the creature's chest. But nothing had prepared either of them to expect anything like that.   
  
End part 6. 


	4. parts 7 to 10

Cordelia had just picked up her purse and was preparing to dig out her car keys. The plan was for her and Willow to head over to the Galaxy Quest sets to pick up her script so that she could start practicing for the return of Mirabanna. Willow mainly wanted to go see Alex, and was trying to ignore the possibility of the handmaiden's return as well.  
  
"Are you ready yet? We don't have all day…" Her words were cut off as she had this half moment's warning from her body suddenly feeling all prickly. That was right before she felt this sort of pressure surround her, feeling as if her skull was being ground between several hard things as the images bombarded her mind.  
  
Something made out of rocks, almost along the lines of the Pillsbury dough boy, but about thirty feet tall. It was crashing through the street… crushed a nice little yellow Camero… people were screaming, panicking. Bullets bounced off of the thing, and one massive hand smashed into the side of a building, sending bricks and concrete chunks flying. There was a sign just below the new hole, 'Bellard's Herbal Supply'.  
  
A small room, with plaster walls and a bank of what looked like computers. There was a conference going on, a pair of plasticy looking people in nice suits, a giant gray-green octopus looking thing holding another piggy statue and a strange sort of crystal in two tentacles, and something that looked like a giant armored bug-man. There was a glowy diagram made out of light in the air, with stars and a couple mobile points of blue. She had the unmistakable feeling that these were the bad guys.  
  
'We must hurry. If they are not stopped, the consequences…" The words came from another almost plasticy looking man in a very familiar uniform… It looked almost like Jason's Taggert suit, only with a few more pips and stripes. '… need more help, or all is lost. Bring back the Commander.'  
  
She was on the floor, gasping for breath, her eyes squeezed shut as tears escaped from the corners. Her muscles were aching as if they'd just all been bruised, and her teeth hurt from being clenched. Pain pulsed through her whole body, following her bones. Gentle hands were on her, one supporting at her elbow, the other rubbing circles on her back.  
  
"Try to breath, Cordy. Inhale, count to three, and let it out. Imagine the pain flowing out with the old air." Willow's voice was low, filled with worry.   
  
"asprin… water…" She could hardly get the words out around the throbbing pain that radiated from her skull, down along her spine and out to the rest of her body. "alternately, just kill me now…"  
  
Willow's hands tugged her into a more upright position. "Here, drink this. It should help with the pain."  
  
There was a cup hovering in the air. It looked like one of Angel's mugs, a dark bluish black color, and it was filled with something dark and thick. Her hand was shaking as she reached for the mug, and she drew it closer, slowly sniffing to try to figure out what Willow was trying to give her. It had a sort of sharp, green smell, like herbs. With a mental shrug, Cordelia took a drink.  
  
She nearly spat it out at the taste. It was the most revolting, horrible flavor, like… she had no words. It had the taste of something that should have emerged from some muck-encrusted pool of green, nasty water. But instead, she swallowed, fighting the urge. It seemed to push the pain back.  
  
Cordelia blinked as she realized that the pain was less. If one revolting swallow could do that… Her eyes closed again as she drank down the rest of the brew, trying not to taste it. Her stomach rolled, apparently as unimpressed by the drink as her tongue, but the pain receded, becoming nothing stronger than what could have been a paperwork headache and a bad night's sleep.  
  
"That is the most vile tasting disgusting… and effective thing that I've ever encountered." She looked at Willow, almost shoving the mug away from her. Little shriveled dark bits were clinging to the bottom. "They aren't usually that strong. I think…. This is something really big, and bad. Bad on a whole different scale."  
  
Willow picked up her cell phone as well as her little phone book, covered in an almost appalling wildflower print. "Tell me what happened, please. It's much too sunny out for Angel to deal with things, so maybe there's somebody that we can delegate things too…"  
  
Slowly, fumbling occasionally for the words, Cordelia began to explain the images as they walked out of the hotel towards her car. The huge rock thing, the creepy bad guy meeting, and the most baffling, the guy in the uniform.  
  
Willow just listened, occasionally asking for a clarification on something. Then, she started calling on her cell phone. She called someone named 'Raf' and mentioned a 'big nasty problem', suggesting that he make certain all the fragile merchandise was moved away from the windows. That was followed by a call to someone named Sherry about an 'impending incident' and requesting that what she called 'heavy artillery' be ready, following that up with 'you'd never be able to convince them to listen if I explained how I knew, or what it's going to be.'  
  
They were pulling on to the parking lot of the set by the time Willow had finished that discussion, and Cordelia grimaced, hoping that there would be something inside to get rid of the lingering aftertaste of that potion she'd drank. Certainly no more time to discuss visions and rock monsters, or octopus things.  
  
If there was coffee inside, then things would be better. Anything more would be great. Cordelia sighed as they walked towards the building, a cold certainty filling her that things weren't anywhere near done yet. Things were probably only just beginning.  
  
End part 7.  
  
Willow wanted to just worry about the problems of being in front of a camera with her stage fright. But Cordy's killer vision, with the rock-creature, the bad-guys-R-us meeting, and the 'strange guy with pale rubbery skin in a Taggert's boss uniform' that Cordelia had mentioned wouldn't go away. She wanted to hope the uniform was just some over-enthusiastic fan of the show, but… it would be a bit much to expect. Which meant there was lots of trouble, and it was probably only getting bigger.  
  
Maybe seeing Alex again would help. He could always make her smile, especially now. Of course, if things were simpler…  
  
Cordelia suddenly froze, her hand grabbing Willow's elbow almost too hard. "Willow? That woman… Lali-whats-it. She looks… she's got that same look. Like the freaky uniform guy, and those two baddies in the meeting."  
  
Willow looked over, her eyes finding Laliari easily enough. It hadn't really registered before, partly from not having a lot of contact with the actress, and partly because she'd been too busy staring at Alex, but… there was something a bit off about her. Might as well look at her aura…  
  
Willow relaxed a part of her mind, letting the people take on a blurring haze of colors. Multicolored halos of light surrounded them, familiar shimmering colors. But Laliari's wasn't quite the same. Oh, there were the normal sorts of colors from someone, and the colors indicated that she was fairly nice and incredibly devoted to Fred, but… but… the shape of her aura was all… well, different. It wasn't the sort of tall oval shape of a human aura, it was more a mass of swirls. Sort of like an octopus or an upside down shrubbery. Laliari wasn't human.  
  
"okay….' Rubbing at her eyes, Willow pushed back her awareness, the auras fading from her eyes. "She's not human. Not a threat, but not human. So, if they're like her… urghh… coffee."  
  
Willow smiled as she caught the scent of coffee. Now, where was that wonderful brew? After a moment, she started off, finding Alex sitting in a chair beside Gwen, both of them looking at scripts. She made a slight detour to a table with cups and a coffee pot, snagging a cup as she made her way over.  
  
"So, how's that sub-plot working for you?" She couldn't quite keep from asking. Alex got this awkward look every time, and Gwen would blush… it was cute.  
  
"Willow… umm…" Gwen was blushing, looking down at the script. "You're doing that on purpose. It's wonderful to have something to do that isn't talking to the computer."  
  
Alex smiled, one hand reaching out to touch hers. "It's good to see you again. Of course, I think they've decided to give you a line or two this time around."  
  
Willow blinked, her throat tightening at his words. "Lines?" Her voice had definitely just squeaked. "They want me to talk… in front of the camera?"  
  
Gwen just laughed. "There are hundreds… thousands of people who would love an opportunity like that, and you look terrified. I'm going to go find Murray, figure out what they're planning to shoot next."  
  
Willow offered a shaky smile to the now departing Gwen. "Those thousands of people… they're called actors, not computer consultants."  
  
Sitting beside Alex, she tried to smile. "So… how've things been here?"  
  
Looking into her eyes, Alex soon acquired a worried frown. "Willow… what's wrong? You look… rather shaken."  
  
For a moment, Willow wanted to pour out the confusion of Cordelia's vision. But she didn't, partly because she wasn't certain if she could even explain that and have it make sense, partly because the visions weren't hers to talk about, and partly… "It's pretty complicated. And it has to do with… other stuff. Sunnydale sort of stuff that I'd sort of rather not go into here."  
  
"Perhaps later then?" Alex pulled her closer for a one armed hug. "I can listen, if nothing else. And maybe having someone listen would help you calm down."  
  
Thinking back to the sight of Cordelia arched in pain as the vision had ricocheted in her skull, Willow winced. "Maybe in a little bit, when we can have a moment of privacy. I can… well, I can tell you a little of it."  
  
Smiling at her, he offered a suggestion. "Perhaps in the meanwhile, we can watch Cordelia and Jason argue?"  
  
His smile was full of mischief, and Willow couldn't help but smile back. "We might as well give them an audience. It will make it easier for anyone to find us if they're looking."  
  
End part 8.  
  
Alex looped his arm over Willow's as they made their way towards the bridge set. He could already hear the sound of Jason saying something, probably to Cordelia.  
  
"Because I'm Commander Taggert! Of course you can't resist me! Nobody does."  
  
"Oh, get over yourself. You're not ugly, but there are better looking guys out there. With smaller egos."  
  
"They don't have their own space-ships!"  
  
"Does she even know why she's still dating him?" The voice carried a faintly Irish accent. Angel stepped from the shadows, his shirt untucked, his hair in disarray. He looked… pale, and his eyes almost bloodshot. As if he'd gotten too little sleep.  
  
"Angel? What are you… How?" Willow was frowning at him, looking worried again.  
  
He looked as if he was going to answer, but simply shrugged. "There are ways. I…. Couldn't sleep. Something's…. something wrong."  
  
Gwen looked at the dark haired man, the smile lighting up her whole face. "Angel. I wasn't expecting to see you here."  
  
"Bridge Crew on the set! Filming in two minutes people!" Murray's voice rang through the air.  
  
Glancing at Willow, Alex sighed. He'd much rather stay at her side, but this was his job. "Pardon, but it seems I must go now and listen to someone tell me how to do my job."  
  
Alex walked towards the bridge, noticing that Fred and Laliari were there, neither one looking quite calm. When Fred looked uneasy, it was troubling. And he couldn't quite help thinking that this might be connected to Willow's unease. He was slightly distracted by Angel speaking in a low voice to Cordelia and Willow… something about a demon? And did Cordelia say something about a rock monster?  
  
As they slowly began moving onto the set for a scene, Alex tried to drag his mind away from Willow's conversation to his job. He'd missed the statement of what scene they were supposed to be doing. Taking a deep breath, he hoped that he didn't have the first line. Surely he'd remember when he heard the scene begin…  
  
Fred looked over at Jason, his face once again impassive. "We need to make a few major engine repairs. That will take a few minerals, and some refined metals… A lot more than the amount that we have in storage."  
  
Alex felt relief wash over him. He knew this scene, could do this one easily. "Commander? The closest friendly source of refined metals would be Delphos, the homeworld of…"  
  
He was interrupted by Jason, who was smiling at Taggert's line. "The home of Princess Mirabanna. Of course. Laredo, set course for Delphos. Tawny, prepare a message requesting some assistance to be broadcast when we're close enough."  
  
There was a sudden chirping noise from Laliari's pocket. It wasn't the soft ring of a cell phone. At least, not from any cell phone made on Earth. It was the annoyingly perky chirping sound of the Thermian communicators. Startled, half the people turned, looking at her in puzzlement.  
  
Alex had a sudden feeling, and one hand raised, as if to block some sort of view. This would not be good. "Oh no…"  
  
Just then, he felt the horrible tugging feeling, as if some invisible force had reached inside his head, pulling him upwards. His stomach protested and all of his muscles felt like they were trying to resist, to hold him here, on Earth, at the set.  
  
But it was too late, he'd been digitized.  
  
Stars seemed to flicker before his eyes, blurs and streaks of light as his essence was dragged through space to be reassembled on the Protector. It was a rather unsettling experience, one that he'd only had a few times, and would have been content to never repeat. As the streaks of light flickered past, he remembered that Willow, Cordelia and Angel had been there, as well as the production crew. How would he ever explain this one?  
  
Then, he was standing on the platform, his muscles feeling rigid as he shook, his whole body feeling cold. Part of him was trying to figure out if everything was precisely where it should be, if he'd been put together properly. There was a sort of flash beside him, and Jason was there, his body twitching and shivering. Then Gwen, and Laliari and Fred, now holding a bag of coffee beans. A group of Thermians entered, looking like a small flock of rainbow colored octopi with hairdryers, the devices sending warmth back into shivering limbs as they pulled them off the transport pad, into another room. A table was there, with steaming mugs of something to drink.  
  
As he lifted a cup in trembling hands, he heard the soft 'zapppff' sound of the digital transport activating again. And then he knew. Malthesar hadn't just brought them, he'd also brought 'Princess Mirabanna' and her handmaiden. Possibly Angel as well.  
  
End part 9.  
  
Angel stood on the platform, his entire body feeling odd. Sort of prickly, almost tingling. It sort of reminded him of the way he thought it had felt when his foot had fallen asleep, back when he'd been mortal, but he couldn't remember the sensation clearly. He was still trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened… No. No, he'd been to Hell, and nothing like that had ever happened there.  
  
He'd been talking to Willow and Cordelia, trying to figure out what was going on, why his demon felt so restless that he couldn't sleep. It almost reminded him of thwarted or unfinished hunts… But he'd been unable to get more than a few moments rest at a time, and he'd finally given up. Hoping that one of the women had an answer, he'd gone downstairs, looking for them. Instead, he found a mug on the front desk, containing the dregs of a rather vile tasting herbal potion that served as a potent painkiller. He'd seen men that had been half dissemboweled drink that, get up and walk. Only Willow or Wesley would have known about it, and Wesley had been elsewhere for the weekend. But why would she have… unless Cordelia'd had a vision.  
  
The implications were not good. If her vision had been that severe… Could that be connected with his demon's restless unease?  
  
Fortunately, there were sewer tunnels that would allow him to get to the set where they'd gone. One of them actually came up in the basement of the very building, which had probably been the access used by that disgruntled fan that had frightened Gwen. Ooh, if he went, he might have the bonus of seeing Gwen… Tempting, pretty Gwen.  
  
He'd been talking to Willow and Cordelia, having just managed to get Cordelia to admit to having a vision when he'd felt it, something like a tiny earthquake. It had struck again, a vibration in the earth that had been strong enough for the mortals to feel it. Cordelia had suddenly smelled of near terror, and had clutched at his arm, her face gone pale.  
  
That had been when Alex Dane had suddenly shimmered and vanished. One by one, the rest of the actors on the set had vanished as well, with a sort of minature thunder popping noise. And then, he'd felt it – this strange tugging feeling, as if something had tried to grab his spine through his head. Everything had gone strange and cold, there were blurs of light, and then… here. Wherever here was.   
  
It sort of looked familiar though, as if he'd seen it once before.  
  
When the green octopus thing had entered the room, waving what looked like a pair of hairdryers at him, he'd blinked, wondering if he'd just gone entirely insane. Was he hallucinating from sleep deprivation? But if so, why were Willow and Cordelia still here beside him? One green tendril reached out, slipping around his wrist and gently tugging, trying to get him to move, to follow it through a doorway.  
  
Following the thing, he found himself in a room, with the actors, all of which looked like they were feeling cold. Gwen was still shivering, her lips almost purple. But wait… they looked cold, but not confused. "What just happened?"  
  
Gwen looked at him, her eyes full of so many things that he couldn't read. She might have wanted to answer, but she still looked as if she felt too cold to speak. Instead, she sipped at the cup in her hands.  
  
"We have been digitized. Through the technology of digital transportation, beings can be moved from the surface of a planet to a ship almost instantaneously." The dark haired woman spoke, sipping at her own cup. She didn't seem to be nearly as affected as the other actors, perhaps because she wasn't human.  
  
"Digital transportation… meaning? We've been kidnapped by aliens?" Angel could hear the bit of growl that had crept into his voice.  
  
"We would not have brought you here if the need had not been most urgent. Please, you must help us… you and the Princess… and of course, the handmaiden."  
  
The voice held a strange accent, and there was something else about the tones that told Angel that regardless of the shape, the man speaking to them was definitely not human. His smell was wrong, in the same way that the woman – Lalir or something like that? had a wrong scent. His skin seemed just a little too pale and smooth. And his uniform looked very similar to the ones worn by the actors.  
  
"How did you know about us?" Cordelia's voice sounded far to calm.  
  
The man's smile lacked comfort, and didn't quite fit right, as if he was copying a poorly understood movement. "We saw the historical broadcast. You and the Handmaiden defeated a Fangor Beast… surely you can help us. Without sufficient skill and forces, all…"  
  
"Yes, yes, without more help, all is lost. I know." Cordelia made a gesture with her hand, as if to wave his words off. "What's at risk, and who precisely is everything at risk from? I'm a little bit unclear on that part."  
  
For a moment, Angel felt utter confusion. The answer, oddly enough, came not from the inhuman man, or from Cordelia, but from deep inside, from his demon. Cordelia's vision must have included this man and his trouble. And he was utterly certain that while he'd done a great many bad things, none of them had been bad enough that he deserved this sort of punishment.  
  
Glancing over at Gwen, he paused. Maybe this could have a few bright spots after all… "So, we're really on the Protector now?"  
  
End part 10. 


	5. parts 11 to 13

Cordelia almost laughed at Angel's question. It just sounded almost out of place. She wanted to demand to know how they'd found her, how she'd been brought to this ship. The term 'digital transportation' didn't quite explain it to her. Wasn't digital used in sound systems? She wanted to know how this man knew the evil guy in the suit, and where the bad guys had come from. She felt all shaken inside, not just from the transportation and the confrontation with the man from her vision, but the certainty that the whole ground shaking had been caused by the rock-monster. She had to remain calm, or else she'd break into hysterics.  
  
Instead of asking those questions, Angel was trying to chat up Gwen. It was almost funny… and maybe someone should have a talk with him about his soul. Angelus would be very bad company here… well, anywhere, actually, but if they were the only humans, that would be worse. Something about the commanding officer just… if he was human, she'd dye her hair. With a small sigh, she gestured towards Angel. "This is Angel, who is a Chosen Warrior. My Handmaiden is Willow. Since you already know who I am, why don't you introduce yourself?"  
  
"Of course." The man made a sort of half bow, the gesture seeming both oddly formal and entirely fitting for him. "I am Commander Malthesar, and I have been given authority over the starship Protector with orders to search this sector of space for a group of escaped criminals."  
  
"Malthesar, how likely is it that these criminals are on Earth?" Jason's question sounded caught between his Taggert-voice and utter uncertainty.  
  
"Of that, I am not certain. There are other worlds that would be capable of…"  
  
Malthesar's answer tapered off as another figure hurried into the room. This person looked sort of young, maybe Laliari's age, and he had the same sort of overly smooth and pale skin tone as Malthesar. His facial expression looked almost like an exaggerated state of worry. He seemed to move in the same way as Droopy, a flurry of feet with legs that didn't quite seem to be moving. "Commander! Goriknak is manifest on the planet's surface!"  
  
"Goriknak!" Jason sounded shocked. "That giant pile of rocks? How… didn't he get sent of with the high overlord of insects and explosions?"  
  
"Rock monster?" Angel looked from Malthesar to Jason. "I thought… wasn't Goriknak the pig-thing?"  
  
Malthesar looked at the frightened young crewman. "Can you transfer the Goriknak to the surface of the moon?"  
  
"Try for the back if you can, please." Jason looked like he wanted to wince at the idea.  
  
Cordelia looked at the cast of Galaxy Quest, and then at Malthesar. The uniforms looked entirely too similar, and they didn't seem at all surprised by this. Unhappy, but not surprised. "I think we need a quick conference among ourselves… Perhaps Commander Taggert can explain a bit more about the Goriknak for us?"  
  
"Of course, your Highness. We will escort you to a conference room immediately." Malthesar looked… well, it really looked as if he had a lot of other things to be doing.  
  
Cordelia paused in the doorway, looking at Malthesar for a moment. "He has another pig statue. And a lot of equipment."  
  
With that little bit of warning, she continued down the hallway to the conference room. Jason had a lot of explaining to do. She looked around at everyone, seeing that Angel was trying to hide his confusion by talking to Gwen, and Willow looked sort of nervous, her hand clasped in Alex's. "Now, who wants to start the explanations?"  
  
End part 11.  
  
Alex felt the urge to both smile at Jason's startled expression when Cordelia demanded an explanation and to stand up and demand to know why she wasn't more surprised. Glancing over at Willow, he could see the questions in her eyes, could tell that while she wasn't in the same state of near panicked confusion he'd been left in after the first time he'd been brought here, she wasn't certain what was happening.  
  
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, just enough to get her attention. "This is… sort of complicated. Malthesar is a Thermian. He's… they're the ones who saw the broadcasts of the original series and they thought…"  
  
"He called it a historical broadcast. The… Fangor beast thing." She spoke softly, as if she wasn't quite certain she wanted the words to come out. "They think… they think it's all real? They're the ones who thought that you… that all of you were really the heroes they saw, didn't they? That's what you meant when you said something happened, and you… managed to avert the crisis, but it cost. How's that overlord of insects and explosions that Ja… umm… Commander Taggert mentioned come into this?"  
  
"That was the problem that we needed to save them from. An evil alien warlord, intent on destroying the Thermians. He looked rather like a large insect man in armor." Alex sighed, hoping to avoid all of the complications of that story. "I believe the last Goriknak was left wrecking destruction on his flagship."  
  
"So, the Goriknak is the rock monster, not the piggy thing with teeth." Willow looked as if she as turning over that in her mind. "Oh! The rock monster is in Los Angeles. And if it's the result of that ritual… wait, another pig statue? Ohhhh…."  
  
Alex held her as Willow almost seemed to shrink into herself. "It's going to be alright, love. You aren't facing this alone."  
  
"They brought us because of the Mirabanna episode, didn't they? They think…. They want us to help." She was practically whispering into his chest, her hands clutching at his uniform. "They're going to want me to use the magic."  
  
"Well, it did look very impressive." He smiled, and reached down, trying to have her look at him. "What I thought the most puzzling though… it was almost as if you were expecting the beast to attack."  
  
"That rock monster shouldn't even be here! Thos nasty little blue guys are… well, they're a very long way from here. How did it even get here anyhow?" Jason sounded like he was pacing, working himself up into quite the snit.  
  
"A bunch of stupid vampires did a ritual with this statue that sort of looked like a pig with only two legs. Then… well, I'm not sure. The ritual was supposed to conjure or invoke the Goriknak. We figured… well…" Cordelia sighed, running her hand through her hair in a clear sign of frustration. "Angel, care to help out here?"  
  
"The pig thing that hatched from the idol was an alien?" Angel's voice was full of confusion. "Wesley and I went, we killed the vampires, killed the pig, and went home. We figured that was it."  
  
"Vampires?!?" Jason sounded as if he wasn't quite certain if Angel was serious or if Angel was insane.  
  
"Nobody mentioned anything about vampires. What's going on?" Gwen sounded worried, and she was looking around the room.  
  
Laliari leaned over, and in an almost whisper asked Fred the question. "Fred… what is a vampire?"  
  
"Vampire… undead… an animated corpse that drinks blood. Lots of stories about them, some of them disagree on what a vampire can do. They're supposed to be pretty dangerous." He sounded almost too calm.  
  
"There's no such thing as vampires!" Jason practically shouted, his face sort of red.  
  
For some reason, Cordelia, Willow and Angel all started to laugh at that. It was especially jarring from Angel, who really hadn't shown much of a sense of humor before.   
  
Alex got a slight sinking feeling, and leaned towards Willow. "Sunnydale had vampires, didn't it? That's how you got into the magic. That's why you prefer not to talk about it."  
  
Willow nodded, her eyes heavy with unpleasant memories. "Sunnydale had all sorts of nasty troubles. It was like… well, you could make dozens of horror movies just from my senior year of high school. Lots of things, and a lot of them were bad. Vampires are real, magic is real, demons are real. Especially vampires."  
  
Jason glared across the table at her. "Magic and vampires are for fairy tales. I don't know how you and the Princess got to be this age and still believing in that sort of thing, but I'm not going to believe it until I see it."  
  
That's when Angel growled. Not the sort of frustrated noise than a person might make, but a real and very menacing growl. Like something from a wolf or a panther. With a growing sense of dread, Alex turned his head, glancing at him. Angel's entire face had changed, his eyes now a menacing yellow, his features… well, sort of twisted and frightening. And there were the teeth… sharp looking fangs. "oh my God…"  
  
Jason turned pale, making this noise that was half gasp and half frightened gurgle, and had somehow tried to leap backwards, smacking into the wall with a thud. He was groping wildly for a door, his eyes almost bulging as he stared at Angel in horrified shock. His mouth was moving, but only broken sounds were emerging.  
  
Gwen had sat down with a soft squeak, her hand over her mouth. After a few seconds of near silence, she spoke in a soft whisper. "Computer, please scan the life signs of every person in this room, and report."   
  
Cordelia turned, and glared at Angel. "Oh, stop it! This is not the time, so just… enough with the grrr. I'm still trying to get an explanation."  
  
For a moment, Angel just looked at Cordelia, his features harder to read now that they were so… menacing. Yes, menacing was the word for it. After a few moments, he sort of sighed, and sat down again, one hand coming to rest at his temple. His features changed back, returning to the handsome face that they'd seen before. "If we're going to be fighting against terrible bad guys, couldn't I at least have brought a sword?"  
  
Alex looked at Willow, feeling more confused than before. "Some of this makes sense to you?"  
  
"Well…. Part of it. Angel's a vampire, and I've known him – and that fact about him, for several years. Almost six of them now. He's one of the good guys. Cordy… well…" Willow looked as if she was trying to find the right words.  
  
"We're not going to confuse everybody with one of your babble explanations!" Cordelia snapped. "Let's do the short version. Angel's a vampire, but he's one of the good guys. I get horribly painful visions of the future, generally on the lines of things to prevent. Willow's a witch – most of what I've seen falls under telekinetics. And this… we're on a spaceship, built by a bunch of aliens who watched way too much of an old television series?"  
  
"That… sums up the Protector." Gwen sounded shaken, and she glanced at Angel. "I'll take your word for the other part though."  
  
"Bio-scan completed. Conference room holds one adult female Thermian, three adult male humans, three adult female humans, and one human body, lacking heartbeat or respiration, and room temperature. Probable diagnosis: the body is deceased." The voice emerged from the speakers.  
  
"We knew that already, thanks." Cordelia's sarcasm went unanswered, but he thought several people smiled.  
  
End part 12.  
  
Willow giggled as she leaned against Alex. Cordelia's comment was just so… so Cordelia. Jason was freaking out, Gwen was just sort of sitting down and staring at Angel as if she'd just found that two plus two equaled five for him, and Alex… Well, he was holding her close. That was the good part, but she thought that he seemed rather stunned by this latest unexpected revelation. Sort of like how he'd reacted when she'd first told him there was magic. This was the sort of messy scene that she'd been hoping to avoid.  
  
"Demons, huh? I guess that explains that club." The deceptively calm voice of Fred Kwan seemed almost loud in the room. "He was right, this is probably going to be another adventure."  
  
"But… they have horrible coffee. Wonderful deserts, but the coffee is… terrible." Gwen sounded as if she was coming out of the mini-shock.  
  
"The green guy mentioned that. So, I bought some along this time. All we need is a coffee pot." Fred sounded so calm, but Laliari was giggling now.  
  
"He looked into the future." There was a slight pause. "Was he green? I'm remembering him as green, with little horns."  
  
"You went to Caritas?" Angel sounded interested now. "That's Lorne's place… He can read auras and get a glimpse into a person's future if they sing. Probably why he runs a karaoke club…"  
  
"A demon with a karaoke club?" Jason sounded baffled.  
  
Willow glanced over, seeing that while he was still standing right against the wall, he had stopped looking for a doorknob, and looked a bit less panicky. "Yeah, he's got a karaoke club. With really good bartenders, might I add."  
  
"Do you go there often?" Gwen looked at Willow, her hand once again resting on the table, sort of close to where Angel was sitting.  
  
"Sort of, but I don't sing. Angel and Cordy do occasionally." Willow sighed, thinking about Caritas. "I wonder just how much of this did he see? Oh, wait, focus on the problem. What are we supposed to be doing here?"  
  
For a moment, there was silence. Then, Alex spoke. "The last time, they wanted the heroes that they had watched to come and save everything, just like on the 'historical broadcasts'. But Malthesar was here then, and he learned the truth about us… Either he's been unable to convince anyone else about that, or they feel that we might have another perspective that would be useful to them. As for you and Cordelia, the broadcast defeat of the Fangor Beast was… very impressive. They probably just took Angel because he was in proximity to you two."  
  
"Wonderful. I'm grabbed because of who I'm standing around, and brought here… This could become a problem." Angel sounded like he was brooding again.  
  
For a moment, Willow was tempted to tell Angel to stop brooding. A trip on a real spaceship was hardly the worst thing that could happen to them… and then it hit her exactly what he was worried about now. This was a spaceship, there would be no convenient butcher shop in the neighborhood. The crew wasn't human, so any spare blood in their medical facilities wouldn't be the right sort for Angel to drink, or at least, it was really unlikely. Angel was stranded on a spaceship with no food supplies, with a group of people that would eventually start looking like potential meals to him. That could definitely be a problem.  
  
She looked over at Alex, feeling uncertainty and worry churning in her stomach. "Alex? How good are the medical facilities? I mean… oh, is there replication technology? Something to accelerate healing? Tissue cloning?"  
  
For a moment, Alex had a look of blank confusion. Then, his eyes sort of slid towards Angel before jerking back to look at Willow. He looked worried, his breathing a bit harder, and his eyes a bit wider than normal. "There are methods for treating injuries, and accelerating healing, although I think those are only for extreme injuries. As for tissue cloning… Possibly. I shall have to check. It would be a very good thing if there were."  
  
"Yeah." She reached out, gripping his fingers in her hand, feeling the way his fingers had gone nearly limp. "Maybe we should go try to learn what Malthesar knows about these criminals?"  
  
"We might as well. Lack of proper information nearly got us killed the last time, if we can avoid making the same mistakes again then we should." Alex sounded as if he was suddenly tired. "Any mistakes that we can avoid would be… good."  
  
"That's always part of any good plan." She wanted to help reassure him, to help him feel less overwhelmed by the whole mess. "You aren't alone in this. We've helped fight a lot of bad things, and we'll help this time."  
  
"Look, we have good coffee." Fred's voice emerged from the back corner, preceded by the soft gurgling noise and rich smell of brewing coffee. "Or we will in a few more minutes."  
  
She tried to fight the giggles, but the just slipped out. "We have coffee… all we need are doughnuts and then everything will be perfect for planning our strategy."  
  
"Well, you might not be the computer girl this time, Willow. It seems to only answer to 'Tawny Madison', and that's definitely not you." Cordelia sounded like she was remembering Sunnydale as well.  
  
"How did you know what was going on anyhow?" Gwen's voice was curious, and somehow, her hand had moved to rest underneath Angel's. "You didn't seem entirely surprised by Malthesar's picture of doom."  
  
"I get visions. Sort of random precognitive bursts, complete with Technicolor surround sound and instant migranes." Cordelia sounded unhappy. "And I didn't have any of my pain killers with me…"  
  
"Who wants to call Malthesar in to share the news on the bad guys?" Willow asked, hoping that someone would volunteer.  
  
"I will. We might as well have something to work with." Jason seemed quite willing to leave the room, and Willow had to wonder if it was from fear or the eagerness to just get this over with.  
  
End part 13. 


	6. parts 14 and 15

"You look like you could use a bit of quiet." Gwen's voice caught Angel's attention. "Why don't I show you the forward viewing lounge?"  
  
He looked at her, half convinced that her eyes would be full of fear and distrust. Certain that things would be different now, and afraid that 'different' would also mean 'bad'. But while there was a bit of fear, it was more the sort that might be nervousness, and plenty of confusion. Her hand was resting on his, and she even had a small, hopeful smile. Maybe… maybe things weren't utterly ruined? Of course, there was still that… clause, but…  
  
And why was he still sitting here like a lump? "That might be nice."  
  
She stood up, her hand closing around his so that as she stood, there was a gentle tug prompting him to do the same. The result was that they were so close that they were almost touching. Gwen blushed, her eyes traveling over him as a soft "Oh my…" emerged.  
  
"So, you mentioned a viewing lounge?" Angel smiled, feeling just a little pleased by her reaction. He might not reflect, but apparently, he still looked good, judging by her reaction. "What, exactly, is viewed there?"  
  
Gwen just smiled, and started down a silvery hallway, pulling him along. "You'll see."  
  
Angel found himself actually smiling as he followed her. "This looks… remarkably similar to the set. Is there even… is there one of those… giant mallet-choppy areas in here somewhere?"  
  
"Yes, there is. We shouldn't need to go there." Gwen chuckled, shaking her head. "There's sort of a funny story about that, but… You know, I'm still not actually sure why we have that. They built it because it was on the series, but… Why was it event here at all?"  
  
"The drama of an episode with a weak plot?" Angel ventured the guess, remembering some of the older television series that he'd seen.  
  
"Probably. But the viewing rooms are much better." She tugged him into a room, with more silvery walls and a sort of darker gray carpeting. There were some pale couches, and a couple bowl-like chairs, but nobody else was currently in the room. One whole wall was… it looked gone, revealing a sweeping panorama of stars. Gracefully, a satellite slid into view below them, with antenna and a panel of solar cells.  
  
Angel felt his jaw drop as he moved into the room. Slowly, he approached the stars, almost bumping into the transparent panel that formed the wall. "It's… amazing."  
  
For a few moments, there was nothing but the soft sound of Gwen's heartbeat as they looked at the stars. Then, she asked a question, something that Angel had tried to hope wouldn't come back up. "So, you're a vampire? How does that… I mean… umm…"  
  
Angel looked over at her, seeing the way that's he'd caught her lip in her teeth, clearly trying to figure out how to ask what she wanted to know. It couldn't be easy for her to make sense of all of this. "A vampire. One vampire has to deliberately… it's a deliberate process, and it involved dying. You probably don't want all the details. I've been a vampire for… hmm, what year is this? Two hundred and twenty some years. Some of the stories are real, and some of them are utter rubbish."  
  
"The blood? Problems with sunlight? Crosses? Garlic? Running water? Reflections?" She looked at him, her eyes meeting his. Her other hand reached up, and her fingers came to rest over his heart.  
  
"Sunlight and crosses are dangerous. I don't have a reflection. Running water… I have no idea where that came from, unless it's because a lot of rivers have sharp rocks in them, and that would hurt…" Angel shook his head. "Personally, I think showers are one of the greatest inventions of the modern era. As for garlic… vampires have sharper senses, so we can… strong smells are stronger. But you'd get the same effect from too much perfume or from slicing open hot peppers."  
  
She smiled at that, looking at him. "Has anyone ever tried that? The hot peppers?"  
  
Angel smiled a bit, noticing that she hadn't asked about the blood again. Maybe she was trying not to think about that part of things? "Not to me, but… I met someone that had that happen to him. Actually, somebody smacked him in the face with a pepper when he was trying to bite them. Apparently it was the most intensely painful and horrible experience that he'd ever suffered. It sounded far more amusing than it really should have been…"  
  
"Oh dear…" The corner of her mouth was twitching, as if she was trying not to laugh about the idea of a vampire getting a face full of peppers instead of biting someone.  
  
"It changes things. What I can do, what I can't do. I'm never going to have gray hair, or wrinkles, but I can't go out for a walk in the afternoon." He sighed, feeling the familiar wave of self pity, brooding, and guilt for everything that he'd done. "There's a lot in my past that I didn't mention."  
  
"Apparently. You mentioned that your birthday was in March, but not that you were in your third century. And you'd mentioned having done some things that you weren't proud of when you were with… I think you described Darla as your ex-girlfriend?" Gwen shook her head. "How much of that was true, and how much was…"  
  
"Edited." Angel spoke, internally wincing at the tone in her voice. She sounded as if she felt… well, almost betrayed. "My birthday is March tenth, not that I've celebrated it very much lately. Darla… she's the one who turned me. She wanted me to be… terrible, and for her, I… I tried to be what she wanted. I have a detective agency, but a lot of our cases involve demons, or curses. Some of them… they just can't go to the police. And most people, they wouldn't believe any of this."  
  
"I know how that one works. How many people would believe that we actually met aliens, and that Laliari's… well, not human?" Gwen smiled a little, looking up at him.  
  
"I knew that from the moment I first saw her. She doesn't smell right." Angel shook his head, feeling slightly better. "Which would hardly be convincing to most people."  
  
Gwen just shook her head, and looked back out the window. "The view of the stars is the best part about being here. Lots better than the fact that they're counting on us to help avert some sort of catastrophe."  
  
"We'll handle it. Just like we do everything else." Angel smiled, feeling somehow better. Gwen knew that he was a vampire, and wasn't trying to get away from him. She wasn't trying to run, or hide. Maybe… maybe there was hope.  
  
He'd best talk to Willow, and find out if there was any progress on a permanent anchoring for his soul.  
  
End part 14.  
  
Cordelia sighed, feeling almost like everybody was trying to run away. Jason had practically run from the room, even if it was supposedly to find Malthesar so he could share the information on the bad guys. Angel and Gwen had left, and she wondered, yet again, exactly how much was going on with those two, and if she needed to remind Angel about a certain nasty clause for his soul. She wondered if Willow had made any progress towards a way to permanently bind his soul to him. And she was jealous of the way that Willow and Alex looked so snuggly together. Maybe not happy with the situation, but they looked… well, maybe Willow's spell had brought her to the person that she was supposed to be with.  
  
She was on an alien spacecraft that looked just like the set of a television series, kidnapped – or maybe drafted would be more accurate – taken to help fight some sort of terrible alien menace. Her relationship had just taken a serious nose dive. It had been bad enough that some of the secrets had been ripped out like this, but then Jason hadn't wanted to believe what they'd said, had looked at her like she was crazy. And then when he'd seen proof, he'd looked… he'd been afraid. Not just afraid of Angel the vampire, but afraid of all three of them.  
  
Folding her arms across her chest, Cordelia leaned back in the chair, looking at the ceiling. "This situation bites."  
  
Alex laughed, a sharp, half nervous sound, and looked at her, his eyes so full of emotion and questions that she couldn't quite sort out everything. "Considering the situation, is that the word to use?"  
  
"Yeah, definitely the word to use." Pausing, Cordelia considered things again. They were the only humans on the ship, and Angel was a vampire, even if he did have a soul. Things were not good, could get a lot worse, and they still didn't know about the bad guys. "Sometimes, life is just way more complicated than it needs to be."   
  
That was when the door slid open again, with this little sound of displaced air that almost mimicked a cheesy special effect. Jason was there, still looking awkward and uncomfortable, although he seemed to settle a bit when he realized that Angel was gone. Malthesar was with him, with an exaggerated looking frown.  
  
She stood up, forcing herself to look like she wasn't angry, like she didn't want to scream and throw things because yet another relationship was plummeting towards disaster because of hellmouthy weirdness. Her smile probably looked as fake as Malthesar's frown, but it would have to do. "So, Malthesar, what can you tell us about these enemies?"   
  
"Our enemies… They are what would best be described as pirates, or aspiring conquerors. They were tried and found guilty of efforts to seize power. Liliamesa and Thelianar were members of the Thermian space fleet, before a mutiny. They nearly took over a colony world before they were stopped. Na'triss was one of the strongest supporters of Sarrais, and rapidly attempted to take power in the sudden power vacuum. The fourth of the leaders is Kelairi, a political leader of our people. She became very ambitious, and…" He paused, as if trying to find words for something very painful. "Power without ethics is a very bad thing."  
  
"They were sentenced to live the remainders of their lives on a miserable world that was barely habitable. There were strong factions arguing that to sentence them to death would be a moral failing of our own. Perhaps they are now reconsidering that position. The criminals… they escaped the planet, seized control of a small ship, and vanished. Several ships have been sent out to search for them, and it seems that this one was… fortunate enough to find them." His tone made it clear that he wasn't certain if this was good fortune or bad fortune.  
  
"Imagine the odds. Out of all the habitable planets in space, they came to earth." The dry comment from Alex almost helped.  
  
"Actually, your world is distant from the centers of power. If they could start an empire here, with this world, it might be very difficult to dislodge them from that power." Malthesar's words were logical, but unwelcome.  
  
"So, we aren't just trying to save the world, but the whole galaxy this time?" Willow's voice was soft, as if she found the idea daunting.   
  
  
  
"Yes. But if you have practice in saving a world, that should be beneficial for this." Malthesar looked so desperately sincere and worried that it almost hurt.  
  
"Oh God…" Cordelia sank back into her chair, rubbing at her temple. She was certain that leaping migrane from her vision was coming back. She'd signed on to play the part of a princess. She'd expected a pretty costume, a few lines, maybe a kiss or two. She hadn't expected to have to help save the whole galaxy from ambitious aliens. "Why couldn't they just climb the social ladder like normal power hungry freaks?"  
  
Nobody had an answer for her, partly because it was too simple. If they'd been willing to settle for the normal means of advancement, they wouldn't be bad guys, or at least not on the same scale.  
  
End part 15. 


	7. parts 16 to 18

"Willow, why don't I show you the medical facilities? It might be a good idea for at least one of you to become acquainted with them, and I have the feeling that your associates would be spending more time with Lt. Madison." Alex looked at Willow, part of him just wanting to get her alone, and part of him worrying about the idea of Angel and sufficient meals.  
  
Willow smiled, and rose from her chair, tucking her hair back almost nervously. "Yeah, the medical area. It would be good, and maybe interesting… I used to be quite the science nerd."  
  
Alex placed his hand under her arm, leading her out past Malthesar and Jason, sighing just a bit at the way Jason was pacing and muttering under his breath. "He's not taking this very well, is he?"  
  
"Doesn't look that way. I mean, it could be worse, like the way my mom reacted the first time I tried to tell her about the magic, but…" Willow shivered, a hint that her mother's reaction had been very bad. "Either he'll just have to deal with it, or after this is over he'll be repressing. But if he can deal with aliens and spaceships based on your old television series, vampires shouldn't be that bad."  
  
"One might hope so, anyhow." He shook his head, considering everything that he'd seen in all the years that he'd known Jason Nesmith. "But he's quite far from predictable sometimes. He dealt quite well with the reality of the Thermians, once he figured out that this wasn't all an elaborate set up by a group of fans."  
  
"You're worrying about Angel, aren't you?" Her voice was soft, and her hand slid down, fingers lacing through his.  
  
"Honestly, yes. While he seems… quiet, I find myself entirely lacking any desire to be on his dinner menu." Alex remembered those sharp teeth, imagined them ripping into his flesh, and shivered. "I'm hoping that we can figure out some sort of alternative for him."  
  
"Angel's a decent enough guy. I just… well, him and Gwen…" Willow's free hand was making little gestures, enough that he was quite certain that he'd missed a few bits of information. "But these bad guys… Thermian would be world – no, galactic conquerers? And who's Sarrais anyhow?"  
  
"The lord of bugs and explosions, as Jason put it. The previous bad guy. Apparently, one of his subordinates survived." Alex made a half shrug. "Our problem isn't identifying the fallen, but figuring out how to stop their successors. And I'm certain that this is a bit beyond what I was expecting today."  
  
Willow giggled. "Beyond what you hired on for? Cordy was just planning to be a Princess, dress up nice, look haughty, have a few lines… I was hoping to escape with nothing more than standing in the background." She glanced at him, shyly grinning. "Nobody told me that we'd be trying to save the galaxy from a group of aspiring dictators. I'm hoping for division in the ranks – if they start fighting each other, then we can hopefully find them more easily. And then they're weaker because they couldn't cooperate, and we beat them."  
  
"What are the odds of that?" He felt a little bit of hope, wondering if it could really be so simple. Could the villains turn on each other?  
  
"Well, if they're ruthless and ambitious enough to try mutiny and power grabbing before, they might try it again. And most of the baddies we run into have an impatient streak. The patient ones are generally much harder to catch. Or maybe they'll decided they'd like a larger slice of the galactic pie, and start pruning their rivals out of the power chart…" Willow was clearly thinking out loud.  
  
End part 16.  
  
The doors to the medical area also made that weird swooshy noise when the opened. She was starting to think that all of them would make that same sound. It would probably be easier to use the same sort of door everywhere, after all, or at least everywhere inside. Willow wasn't surprised to see several Thermians inside – after all, one doctor couldn't take care of an entire ship, and what if the doctor was the injured patient?  
  
"Dr Lazarus! So good to see you again." The smiling Thermian's uniform was slightly different, and he looked a bit less lean that the others that she'd met, and his hair had a few streaks of gray along the temples. "And who is your companion?"  
  
"Doctor Teirell, this is Willow Rosenberg. Willow, this is Doctor Teirell, an expert in Thermian biology and virology." Alex made the introduction smoothly, his mind trying to come up with a smooth way to ask his questions without revealing the depths of his ignorance to everyone here. They needed to have confidence that their 'help' could, in fact, help them.  
  
"And what is your area of expertise, Willow Rosenberg? Or should I call you Doctor Rosenberg?" Dr. Teirell's calm question accompanied a friendly handshake.  
  
"Please, just call me Willow. I haven't… My parents are Doctor Rosenberg, although they've got different specializations. I'm still working on my formal education, with studies in computers and electronics, as well as some quantum manipulations. A… Dr Lazarus was just mentioning some of the things here in the medical area…" Willow smiled charmingly, tucking her hair behind her ear as she rambled.  
  
"Perhaps you could explain some of them a bit to her while I see if there's anything that I need to catch up on here? Malthesar's briefing was… troubling and rather brief." Alex had this tight little smile, as if he wasn't quite pleased but wanted to hide it.  
  
"Of course, Dr. Lazarus. Nurse Eelani can explain everything. There have been a few changes in the staff, and some of the equipment has been updated… I will make certain that copies of all the manuals will be left in your quarters." Dr. Teirell nodded, and made an expansive wave towards the facilities. "Where would you like me to begin, Willow?"  
  
Glancing to see that Alex would be alright, Willow looked back to Dr. Teirell. "Why not start with explaining how a routine check up would go? I'm guessing that it's a bit different from what I'm used to. Then, I can move on to asking what everything does, and what would happen in an assortment of horrible situations."  
  
"And what specializations do your parents practice?" His voice was curious as they moved towards one of the flat blue-gray beds.  
  
"My father is a dentist. He takes care of teeth, and tends to cavities, a little dental surgery on occasion. As for my mother, she's a psychologist. Do you have those? It part of her job to figure out if people are thinking and functioning normally in society and to try to help them adjust if they aren't."  
  
"And are the people of your world reluctant to see the one who tends and inspects their biting surfaces as well?" He had a faint smile, and a twinkle in his eyes as if her comments had brought up fond memories.  
  
"It depends on how well they take care of them, I suppose. People with a lot of cavities really don't like to go, but those with healthy teeth don't have as many problems." Willow smiled, noticing the odd way that he'd phrased that question – their biting surfaces?  
  
Willow listened carefully as he explained the process of a check up, and how the basic diagnostic tools worked. She might be able to follow the procedure, but she doubted that she'd know what the results meant. "So, what happens if there's an injury? If there's a lot of blood loss, some physical trauma…"  
  
"Well, that would be most unfortunate." Dr. Teirell made a glance around the room, and pointed at a door marked with several strange curling marks that reminded Willow a bit of Hebrew writing. "Through there is our surgical facility, where we would try to realign any shattered bones and tend to soft tissue trauma. There are several specialized machines which would assist in the procedures if needed, to ensure continued safe breathing, to regulate heartbeats, or to administer vital fluids. There is another machine that would be most important if any of the humans are injured – it can synthesize blood, assuming that the appropriate supplies are here and we have a reference sample for a template. We were unable to leave with a supply of human blood in case of injury, and shall simply have to hope that Commander Taggert avoids any spectacular heroics this time."  
  
"Oh thank goodness for that." Willow sighed in relief. If they could synthesize blood for Angel, things were definitely looking better.  
  
"Why do you say that? You appear to be in excellent health, and uninjured." Dr. Teirell's question was a clear effort to get an explanation.  
  
"Because… one of the other people brought onto the Protector, Angel is… his health is different. He's a vampire, which might not be a familiar term to you at all. But one of the things that it means for him is that he can't… he can't digest normal food, and must feed regularly on blood. I'm sure that you can understand why this is cause for concern to me, to all of us." Willow looked over, hoping that the doctor wouldn't panic.  
  
"This sounds like a most unusual condition indeed. Is there any sort of treatment, medication perhaps? A cure?" Dr. Teirell was looking thoughtful, as if his mind was already considering Angel's 'medical problem'.  
  
"It's not the sort of thing that medication can help, and as far as we know, it's irreversible. There are some compensations for him, but…" Willow shrugged, uncertain how much to explain, and deciding to leave it at as little as possible. "It's very important that he have a blood supply."   
  
"We can begin synthesizing a supply as soon as we have a sample to use as a template. Perhaps several samples would be better… I shall have to call everyone in for a physical anyhow. Perhaps I could start with a sample of your blood? And a full physical to establish a baseline for future references, of course." He had that gentle professional smile again.  
  
Willow sighed, somehow not surprised that she would be asked to do something like this. It was perfectly logical, after all. "I suppose it would be a good idea."  
  
End part 17.  
  
Cordelia sat there, rubbing at her temple while Malthesar left the room. Jason was still pacing, and Fred and Laliari were sitting very close to each other, whispering back and forth. "This is not what I signed on for. This is not supposed to be happening today. Today was supposed to be normal, with just ego flashes and lighting problems."  
  
"He's a vampire! Why didn't you bring any of this up before?" Jason's growl wasn't as intimidating as a demon's, but it was still fairly intense.  
  
"And when would that have come up? Why should it have come up?" Cordelia looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "It wasn't any of your business then. And you are in no position to be yelling at me for keeping secrets."  
  
"Why should it? He's a vampire! Vampires are dangerous, bloodsucking monsters that kill people! I can't imagine why that would have been good to know." He'd stopped pacing, and was now standing there, glaring at the seat where Angel had been sitting.  
  
"He doesn't do that sort of thing." Cordelia deliberately didn't add the part where he 'didn't do that anymore', figuring that really wouldn't help matters.  
  
"We've been dating! Why wouldn't you have mentioned that the guy you work for is a walking corpse?" Jason moved closer, his nostrils flaring and his face turning red.  
  
"Maybe for the same reason that you didn't mention that we might be kidnapped by aliens? Maybe because I thought you might freak out, or think that I'm crazy?" She glared right back, refusing to let him shout her into submission, especially about this.  
  
"Of course I didn't mention the aliens! That sort of thing makes people freak out. But he's…" Jason fumbled for words, glancing at Cordelia before looking over at Fred. "A little help?  
  
"I'm not getting into this one." Fred made a little swirling gesture between them. "You just keep right on trying."  
  
"Thanks for the support." Jason muttered, looking back to Cordelia. "You didn't tell me about any of this."  
  
"No, I didn't. We're always in public, or arguing, or kissing. And it just never came up. Deal with the fact that I didn't share any more than you did, and deal with it quietly so that we can figure out how to get rid of these bad guys. I have an episode to guest star in." Cordelia glared, certain that she'd want to shut herself in a room and cry later.  
  
"That… but… It… arggghh!" Jason growled, stomping his way out of the room.  
  
"That went… badly." Cordelia sank back into her seat, now really wishing that she had another cup of that nasty herbal potion that Willow had given her.  
  
"It is a bit of a shock." Fred's voice seemed pretty calm as he ventured the words.  
  
"You aren't freaking out like that." Sighing, she wondered if there was something like aspirin on this ship, and if she could get some of it.  
  
"He's more excitable." There was a small shrug to accompany the words.  
  
"Yeah, I guess." Finally, she looked at them. "Can you lead me somewhere that I can get something to take to make this headache go away?"  
  
"Of course. There are medical facilities, they should have something for your head." Laliari's voice was calm, and she glanced over. "Are vampires normal for this world? They are in many movies, in songs, and yet… his reaction was most shocked."  
  
Cordelia smiled, finally a question that would be easy to answer. "You know how you guys thought that the series was real when it was just a story? Vampires seem to work just the opposite – people want to think that they're just stories, but they're real. Scary and real."  
  
"Ahhh. That almost makes sense." Laliari stood up, her hand still liked to Fred's. "Follow me to the medical area."  
  
"And in other situations, those words would bring up a creepy feeling." Cordelia shook her head, before deciding to follow the alien to most likely an examining room. "Maybe I should get my head checked out when this is over with."  
  
End 18. 


	8. parts 19 to 21

Gwen looked out at the stars, wishing that she could be as calm and serene as space looked. That she wasn't petrified by the idea that they were the first line of defense against a group of terrifying pirates. That they weren't in horrible danger with this whole situation. Gradually, she shifted, until she was leaning back against Angel's chest as she looked out the window. He was a pleasant shape to lean against, all male muscle and he smelled good. It was only now that she realized that he was noticeably cooler than she was, and that he always was that way. How had she… she'd just explained it away in her mind.  
  
"Did you ever think that you'd be here? I mean, in space?" The question slipped out, an effort to avoid thinking about the possibility of failure.  
  
"No. When I was young… When I was young, the whole idea of flying at all was considered impossible. And then… the idea of going into space almost seemed like it would be too much. Like Prometheus and the taking of fire, or Daedelus and Icarus. What would happen if people dared to reach so high?" One arm slipped around her, holding her close to him.  
  
"What did happen?" The idea that he'd been witness to so many changes was amazing, and almost frightening. There was also the little nagging doubt – if he'd seen so much, what could she possibly offer to him?  
  
"Other than some amazing pictures? People wanted more. It was…. There was a whole new era of dreams. Of exploring and colonizing other worlds, of traveling between the stars. And so many people started working towards it, or telling stories about it. People started to think that there was no end to what could be accomplished." Angel's fingers were rubbing slow patterns on her arm.  
  
There was a pause, and Gwen considered how much things had changed within her own lifetime. The television series and movies. The science fiction stories. The phenomenal strides in technology. "There were some disasters on the way."  
  
"There always are problems." His voice was right by her ear, and cool fingers brushed over her shoulder. "And some people started to think that science held all the answers, that there was no greater power than man and knowledge."  
  
"You don't believe that?" Gwen twisted in his arms, turning to face him, flushing faintly at the closeness of their bodies.  
  
"I've seen magic, and had it cast on me. I don't know about Heaven, but I know there is a Hell. There is a soul that is separate from the body." He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her forehead gently. "There are so many strange things out there… Aliens almost aren't a surprise."  
  
Gwen trembled, wondering how he knew there was a hell, and not quite daring to ask. Instead, she placed on hand on his chest, right over his heart. "Are there… any special cautions that I should be aware of? If we were to… I like you, and we've been… I'm pretty sure that you're interested in me. Where do we go from here?"  
  
There was a trace of some emotion that flickered too fast for Gwen to decipher, and Angel smiled. "I do like you, Gwen. But there are… complications, and some of them result from magic. If we were to be… together, there are a few things… I would have to be very careful to begin with, so that you didn't get hurt."  
  
"I'm not that fragile, Angel. I don't break in a strong wind." Gwen reached up, her hand sliding through his hair. "Why do you keep acting like you might break me by accident?"  
  
"Because humans are more fragile than vampires. Because when things get passionate, there's the urge to bite." His fingers brushed over her pulse. "Because a vampire is stronger than a human, and we have more endurance. Because it would hurt to see bruises on you and know that they were my fault."  
  
Part of her mind had raced along a sexual tangent, wondering just where and how those bruises might get there. If it would be painful, or if she'd be so caught up in pleasure that she wouldn't notice until too late. What it would be like to be with Angel, naked flesh against naked flesh, with him nibbling along her throat. She shivered, knowing that some of the idea was very appealing, even if there was an element of risk. "Maybe you're worth the risk? Maybe it's worth being careful?"  
  
Angel's eyes flickered golden, and there was this noise from deep in his throat, not quite a growl, not quite a moan. He kissed her, his lips insistent against hers, tongue teasing, demanding entrance as he nearly took her breath away, leaving her knees weak and Gwen leaned against him. "You really mean that?"  
  
Her fingers touched her lips, almost still feeling his lips and tongue, her stomach fluttering in the aftermath. "Wow… now that was a kiss. You really think that I'd walk away from you just because of this?"  
  
"There's something else… apart from the physical." He glanced from her eyes to her lips, and his own fingers brushed over them. "One of those encounters with magic… it's a complicated and unpleasant story, but… I can't be too happy. It wouldn't be safe."  
  
Gwen looked at him, certain that the levels of pain, guilt, and half smothered rage couldn't be faked. "What happens if you get too happy?"  
  
His words were barely a whisper, but they sent chills down her spine.  
  
"I lose my soul and become evil."  
  
End part 19.  
  
Willow leaned against a wall, looking at one of the technical manuals for the medical equipment. There were diagrams to show how it should be put together, and for all the proper ways to perform maintenance and inspections. It showed where to look for the readings, and had everything carefully labeled. Frustrated, she turned the page. Yes, it probably explained everything, but it wasn't in English. It was in that same curling script that was over the surgery door.  
  
Just on the other side of a surprisingly comfortable thin bed, a group of nurses seemed to be going over an analysis of her check up and blood sample. Doctor Teirell was currently frowning as a little device hovered near Cordelia's head, scanning for… something. Apparently, she'd wanted something for her headaches.  
  
"umm…" Willow tried to catch the attention of one of the nurses that didn't look busy. "You might want to check on J… Commander Taggert's leg. There was a Fangor Beast, and it left him with a few gashes. I think your medical expertise and technology here is better than the doctor that he visited on Earth."  
  
"A Fangor Beast! But… how would one have gotten to the planet below?" The nurse seemed a bit alarmed.  
  
"We have no idea on that part. We're pretty sure that there weren't any others, and the one that attacked the… The one that got his leg is now very deceased. But he's still limping when he thinks that nobody's looking." Willow sighed, and closed the technical manual. Maybe she could ask Gwen if the computer could translate from Thermian to English?  
  
"Do you have reason to believe that this should be dealt with immediately?" There was an oddly hopeful look in the nurse's dark eyes.  
  
A moment's flicker showed that all of the medical staff had the same swirly-shaped auras as Laliari. Rather than give a direct answer, Willow simply asked "Well… Do you really think that he'd be very good at sitting back in a chair on the bridge and waiting while his leg is still healing?"  
  
"A very good point. I will have him brought to the medical areas." The nurse gave a slight nod and moved away, chuckling a bit. Apparently, Commander Taggert was a difficult patient.  
  
She tried not to laugh at the situation. But really, Jason Nesmith, the arrogant actor was about to be kidnapped to the medical area by concerned security, and forced to get his leg examined. And Willow had the feeling that some of them would be enjoying it far too much… Maybe she should see if Alex wanted to watch?  
  
Finally, she spotted him, mainly because he was just enough taller than the other medical staff that the elaborate make up for the head fins could be seen above everybody. Smiling, she walked over, her arm only a little sore where a blood sample had been carefully drawn. "Umm… Doctors? I believe that one of the nurses just went to have security bring Commander Taggert here to have his leg examined. If there's anything that can be prepared before he gets here, it might be good."  
  
"Of course, his leg is still healing from the Fangor Beast." Alex seemed almost as amused as the nurse. "There should be something that can be done. Especially as his knee has been bothering him."  
  
As the medical staff began a flurry of preparations, many of them with gleeful twinkles in their eyes and slightly stiff smiles, Doctor Teirell approached Willow. "What precisely do you mean when you say that you study Quantum Manipulations? Is this related to physics?"  
  
Realizing that he was genuinely curious, Willow tried to figure out a way to explain her magic without calling it magic. "It's basically applying willpower, theory and knowledge to directly manipulate the quantum fluctuation and potentiality in order to cause changes. I'm still learning, although it's the sort of thing that you can study for a lifetime and still have a lot that you don't know."  
  
"How can the mind directly affect the Quantum?" The question came from another Thermian nurse, one who looked slightly less human than Laliari and Malthesar. "The Quantum particles are too small to observe even with advanced devices."  
  
"It's… sort of a talent. Some people have it, and others don't." Willow faltered, not quite certain that her explanation would hold.  
  
"It this part of the reason why you were chosen to be the Handmaiden? Because of this quantum manipulation?" He was looking at her, his head tilted at an almost painful looking angle.  
  
"Partly." Willow decided to seize the offered explanation, and not even try to explain that 'Princess Mirabanna' was really Cordelia, an actress. "Partly for the manipulation, and partly to help keep her highness over there from forgetting important things when she gets caught up in a vision. Partly to make certain that things operate smoothly, that the equipment is in good repair and the records are properly filed. It's complicated."  
  
"So many things are complicated. Especially traditional ceremonial roles." The nurse nodded, and moved to a cabinet, removing a tray of gleaming silver objects that might have been probes or thermometers or tubes.  
  
"We see a great deal of complicated on the Protector." Teirell's voice held a trace of amusement. "Perhaps you would find it informative to watch the procedure? And I believe that there may have been a few advances in procedure while Doctor Lazarus has been away, perhaps he would prefer to observe rather than perform the procedure himself?"  
  
"That sounds agreeable." Alex spoke, his dry tone giving no hint that he really had very little idea about medical procedure at all. "I have every confidence in you, Doctor Teirell."  
  
Willow moved to the side, curious what would happen. She was also wondering if Doctor Teirell knew that Alex wasn't really a doctor, if the people from earth weren't really the great heroes that they'd seen in the broadcasts. If he did, if she could find out, then maybe… maybe what? Yes, it would be good to know, good if there was someone else that they could relax in front of, someone to ask for help. But how could she learn this?  
  
More disturbingly, would she have time to learn carefully, before it was too late? Before the bad guys caused utter chaos?  
  
End part 20.  
  
In a carefully converted warehouse on the edges of Los Angeles, a group of individuals surrounded a holographic projection of the solar system. The planets were laid out in their elliptical orbits, with the glow of the sun in the center. A touch at the controls by a finger encased in green chitin caused the image to zoom in on the third planet, and enlarge. Soft noises were made at the resulting image of the planet that they were currently on; it's single orbiting moon, the scattering of primitive satellites, and the Thermian starship currently in orbit.  
  
"Naturally they sent ships looking for us. Our departure would be viewed as a threat." The slick looking man in his dark gray suit was shaped like a human, but he didn't quite look right. His skin was too flat, too pale and glossy, and his eyes were as blandly empty as a pair of dark pebbles.  
  
"Can you determine which ship it is, or can the instruments not determine that without revealing themselves?" The woman had the same near-human appearance as the pale man, and held a small, rectangular device in her hand, her fingers caressing the strangely marked keys below the pale green screen.  
  
The green figure snorted, glaring at the smaller figures in the converted meeting room. He pulled himself up to his full seven feet, and folded his arms over his armor. "It is the Protector, and according to an intercepted transmission, they are commanded by Malthesar, and have brought aboard Taggert."  
  
"Taggert? The human depends on luck and bluster." The pale man made a dismissive wave of his arm, the limb moving in a fluid manner that denied the presence of anything so rigid as bone. "He has no grasp of the subtleties and range of the equipment available to him, and little concept of the potential for power that a proper Thermian ship commands."  
  
"Not a failing that you share?" The glowering figure asked, one cheek twitching in time with the antennae at the top of his head. "We must determine a way to be rid of them."  
  
"Without destroying the ship. The vessel that we arrived on is no match for a warship, I would like to… what is the word? Upgrade?" The woman's smile showed a row of pearly, even teeth, displayed without warmth.  
  
"We have additional resources available, in addition to the local…. What did they call themselves? Vampers?" The words were not spoken in any language native to earth, and the sounds emerged from what looked rather like an octopus of a deep reddish purple color. "Considering that they are expendable, do you think that it would be worth causing a distraction? Something notable enough that the fools on the ship will try to attend to it personally? If we can remove the command element from the ship… chaos, panic, confusion. A voice speaking with calm authority could take over before they even realized."  
  
"Calm authority…" There was an undertone of anger and distrust in the voice of the insect-like figure. "So long as it comes from another Thermian."  
  
"You were their enemy." The pale man shrugged, his face a blank mask. "Your presence would cause more confusion, or perhaps provide a focus to rally against."  
  
There was a clicking sound that emerged from the armored man as he turned back to the hologram. "Do you suppose the vampires could manage to distract long enough on their own, or would they need led?"  
  
"They are weak willed and foolish. Very aggressive, but the ones that I have seen show little true intelligence. They are only suited to follow careful orders and to fight." The pale man shrugged, and wiped at the sleeve of his dark jacket. "But at least they are easy enough to recruit. A few promises of power, the fact that I do not care about their internal squabbles… You may need to kill a few to establish that they must respect your authority. It is simple enough, and should provide one of your warlike past with no trouble. The do not even seem to consider this a problem in command style."  
  
"Then with better weapons, they should make an excellent distraction. And if we can eliminate the command crew during this distraction…" The words trailed off, and there was a calculating light in the eyes of everyone in the room.  
  
"Yes, their elimination would make things much simpler. Especially as Taggert's style is rather difficult to predict. His death… It is so simple to baffle those who only follow procedure." The pale man's words echoed slightly in the room, followed by an odd sounding chuckle.  
  
End part 21. 


	9. parts 22 to 24

"Lt. Madison?" The voice had the accent of a Thermian, though not an individual that Gwen recognized. "We would like your assistance, please."  
  
Looking away from Angel, she glanced at the worried man at the door. His uniform proclaimed him to be another lieutenant, and he had what she remembered as the expression of a very worried Thermian with minimal human contact. "What precisely is the problem?"  
  
She started towards the doorway, one hand catching Angel's wrist to tug him after her. Even if the whole idea of him, being able to lose his soul was strange and frightening, she felt a bit better with him there. And he had normal facial expressions.  
  
"We are trying to locate the pirates, and are encountering some… computer difficulties." He glanced away, something that she recognized as similar to blushing. "The whole planet is… too large of an area for a landing party to search through."  
  
"Of course it is." She smiled, imagining the idea of finding one particular group of people over the whole planet, with over six billion humans and God only knew how many demons and vampires… Her smile became a shudder. Demons. Vampires. Aliens. How had her life become so complicated?  
  
"I'd suggest starting to check in or near Los Angeles." Angel's voice was thoughtful, and he glanced towards her. "That's where the pig-thing was, and where the rock monster showed up. Since that had to have come from the aliens, then shouldn't they be relatively close?"  
  
"That does seem reasonable." Gwen smiled, feeling as if she could sink into his eyes and just drown. No, now wasn't the time for that sort of thing. Save the world, the galaxy from the bad guys, then indulge in fantasies about Angel.  
  
Angel followed her, his hand wrapped around hers as she made her way to one of the communication rooms. Several of them were scattered through the ship, enabling rapid scanning and communication. She wasn't certain, but there was a suspicion that something about the scattered rooms helped with the necessary equipment.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Gwen settled into the soft, bowl shaped chair. "Computer, bring up an image of the surface topography of the planet below us." Reaching out, she traced her finger in a roughly circular shape around California. "Zoom in on this area."  
  
Glancing at Angel, she offered a small smile. It was a bit harder to reference on a map that had no labels, but she could find Los Angeles. Encircling a swath of land containing the city ad it's suburbs, she spoke again. "Computer, scan for Thermian life forms in this area. Indicate on the map any detected."  
  
"Scanning. Please wait." The computer's voice rang into the air, and little bars of light and markings that she assumed were Thermian letters began flashing in the bottom corner of the screen.  
  
Eventually, a glowing purple dot appeared on the map, somewhere inside Los Angeles. Gwen leaned closer, a smile hovering at her lips. "Computer, zoom in on the Thermian life signs. I want to be able to determine their precise location, and if possible get a detailed report on their surroundings."  
  
"The indicated location contains three Thermians. Sensors also detect one Dominionite, and a Sigma class engine." The computers voice remained calm, even as the map zoomed inwards. It ended up showing the area, some buildings recognizable, others only identified by their signs. "The location is below the surface of the streets."  
  
"Underground." Angel sighed, leaning on the chair. "That section has good sized tunnels in addition to the sewer system. I think there were a couple larger areas that had been used for pipe storage during the expansions… They'd make ideal lairs for individuals who wouldn't want to be seen."  
  
"Can you draw up a map?" Gwen asked, and then looked over at the young-seeming communications Lieutenant. "Can you find him some paper and something to write with?"  
  
"Of course, it shall be done at once." With a sort of bowing motion, he ducked out of the room, the doors whooshing shut behind him.  
  
"It won't be perfect, and I don't know if it will be complete. There might be tunnels, connections, maybe even entire chambers that I don't know about. And it's possible that they could have added to what they found." Angel cautioned.  
  
"But it can't hurt. Every bit you can give us will be more than we have now. Then we might be able to come up with a plan to do something about them." Realizing that her shoulders were tense, Gwen tried to relax. "They're counting on us to help save them. How can I not do everything that I can?"  
  
"I know." Angel reached out, his fingertips brushing against her cheek. "But you aren't doing it alone."  
  
End 22.  
  
Cordelia sighed, a bit worried by the intrigued sounding 'ahhh's and 'hmmm's that the doctor and nurse had been making as they used a little silver device to scan her brain. Something about delta readings and activity levels… It was as if they were only speaking half of their sentences out loud.  
  
A little to the left, there was a small room where some smiling security personnel had dragged Jason. Apparently, Willow had mentioned his knee still being messed up from the Fangor beast and they had sent security to drag him up and be repaired. Literally. They'd sedated him and had him up on a table before he'd had time to do more than object once.  
  
"It would be easier if we knew what happened during one of these precognitive episodes." The nurse spoke, one cool hand affixing a cold metal disk to Cordelia's temple. "If we knew how it altered your brain waves and neural chemistry, we might be able to devise a more specific treatment."  
  
"So, what does the disk do?" Cordelia reached up, not quite touching the thing that was now stuck to her temple.  
  
"It will monitor your neural activity. That way, when you have your next precognitive experience, we will have a record of it's effects on your brain, and then we can analyze that to devise a specific medication." There was a brief pause, and the small noises of things being put away. "Do you have any medical allergies?"  
  
"Not that I know of, though I do get a rash if I eat too much shellfish." Cordelia replied, part of her mind caught up in the idea of being able to take a little pill to make the vision-headache go right away.  
  
"Are the visions hereditary?" The nurse asked, glancing at Cordelia with questions spinning in her dark eyes.  
  
"No. It's more complicated than that. My actions…" Cordelia tried to think of a way to explain how she'd got the visions without having to go into too much detail. "I ended up fighting against well, Forces of darkness and evil, if that doesn't sound too melodramatic. Because of those actions, I sort of inherited the visions from another Seer."  
  
"Did the position as Princess come with the visions?" The question was soft, as if the nurse was aware that she was prying.  
  
"That came a bit later. There are multiple Seers, but there… It was a combination of factors that led to me becoming a Princess. Now really isn't the time to go into all of that." Cordelia sighed, wishing that she really was a Princess, with a palace and servants.  
  
A short while later, Cordelia sat at a table in the galley, picking at a salad. She'd been examined, had a sample of blood drawn to be analyzed and stored in case of emergency, and had more medical pictures taken… They'd probably be able to practically rebuild her. She'd been released in a remarkably soft feeling outfit that looked almost like the ship uniforms, still wearing the little disk on her temple to monitor for her next vision.  
  
Idly, she wondered if anybody was working on an attack strategy yet. Did they know where the aliens were hiding? What sort of minions and defenses they would have? How many and how powerful the weapons would be?  
  
Frowning at her thoughts, she sipped at the coffee provided by the meal-making machine. The taste was flat and almost muddy. No wonder Fred had brought his own with him… ughh. She took another swallow anyhow. What was going on between herself and Jason? Would the whole Angel's a vampire and he hadn't been told thing be the end of the dating relationship? Did they have any sort of strength to the relationship, or was it just great kisses and the two of them looking good at public appearances?  
  
She didn't know. His kisses were great, and left her feeling excited and breathless, but there had to be more than that in a relationship. There had to be common interests, or compatibilities. Goals, hopes… communication. But she didn't think there was much of that happening right now. He didn't want to talk about his past before he became 'Commander Taggert', didn't want to talk about where he saw himself in ten years. They seemed to only exist in the now. It had been pretty fun, up to this, but…  
  
Fred and Laliari came in, the Thermian woman half cuddled against him as he smiled. They ended up sitting at one of the other tables, their trays in front of them, and Cordelia noticed that he'd ended up with a glass of some pale yellow-orange liquid instead of the coffee. They were making things work, and it actually made her jealous. A quiet guy and an alien woman could make it work, but she couldn't make something with one human actor?  
  
Maybe she was having this internal crisis too soon. Maybe they would be able to salvage something, some sort of future… She rubbed at her temple, carefully avoiding the metal sensor disk. She wasn't going about this the right way. She shouldn't be sitting here having what-if moments of worry. Instead, she should sit her and figure out a different question – did she want a continuing relationship with Jason Nesmith? Not just the pride issue of not wanting dumped, but did she want a future with him? Could she see them together in five years? What about careers or children?  
  
End part 23.  
  
Alex reminded himself to stay calm as he observed the repairs for Jason's knee. Most of the people here believed that he was a doctor; that he would be used to seeing things like this – he didn't want to shatter their beliefs. Not so much that he wanted them to think that he was a doctor, but they believed that the group of people from Earth could help them. If that confidence was shattered, it could cause the whole mission to fail.  
  
It was sort of fascinating, in a bleeding, exposed bone and tendons sort of way. They were repairing his knee, undoing the damage left by the Fangor beast, and they had some way to put his knee back together without any new scars when they were done. With a repressed shudder, he decided that some sort of vegetables would be the best bet for his next meal.  
  
Glancing across the gathering, he could see Willow. She was carefully out of the way, observing everything with what he recognized as 'trying to keep a blank face'. Was she feeling dismayed by the open knee? Resisting the urge to ask a dozen questions? He tried to smile at her, uncertain of his success.  
  
Knowing that she was here with him gave him a good feeling. He wasn't lost in the strangeness this time around, even if the aliens part was new to Willow. She was used to the idea that the fate of the world – or more, in this case – rested on your actions. The idea was staggering at first, and it felt better to have someone who understood, someone who could still smile about life in the middle of a crisis.  
  
Eventually, the surgery was completed, aided by the use of strange looking devices that delicately realigned the tendons and worked carefully to remove the scar tissue. Jason's knee was closed up again, the skin encouraged by another device to close up, as if it had never been parted. Still asleep, Jason was placed on one of the outer beds to recover, and allow the sedative to wear off.  
  
Silently, Alex offered up a prayer that he hadn't been expected to perform the surgery. He wasn't any sort of real doctor, and for all he knew, he might have done something to permanently cripple Jason.  
  
"Don't brood, that's Angel's job." Willow's voice held a trace of amusement. She was smiling as they walked out of the infirmary.  
  
"Really?" Alex considered the dark haired vampire for a moment. "He doesn't seem to do very much of that around Gwen."  
  
"No, he doesn't. But most of the time, he broods, and sits in the dark, although he might be able to see in it anyhow… I'll have to ask him about that sometime. He broods, and lurks, and goes about saving people… Cordelia actually came up with the little theme – we help the hopeless." Willow had a thoughtful twinkle in her eyes, and a small smile. At some point, she'd changed her clothing, now wearing a ship's uniform without the insignia. "Do you suppose the Thermians qualify?"  
  
"Technically, they aren't quite hopeless. Their hope is… " Alex paused, realizing that their hope was the Galaxy Quest television series. Shuddering, he contemplated trying to run his life based on that, and looked at Willow. "Actually, they might qualify. Their hope rests in us."  
  
"Yikes, way to feel the pressure there." She chuckled, and looked at him. "Maybe we should try to figure out just what sort of weapons the bad guys have?"  
  
"For that, we'll need to talk to Malthesar again. Perhaps we should start with a discussion of the normal procedure for dealing with a small, hostile force on a planetary surface?" Alex paused, remembering a time when he had allowed himself to start forgetting all of the details of the episodes of the original series. He'd thought that they would never again be relevant to his life, but as it had turned out…  
  
"Does that happen often?" She glanced over, pausing to allow a group of people to go through the hall, escorting a large and complicated thing on a float-pallet.  
  
"Hmmm… I can recall a good handful of occasions on the original…" With a pause to glance around, he amended his description. "broadcasts, and the procedure seems to follow a standard pattern. Commander Taggert will go to the planet's surface with a security detail, occasionally with myself accompanying them. Unfortunately, the security detail… I wonder if they've grabbed Guy?"  
  
"Guy?" Willow blinked, and offered a half questioning comment. "He was a security guy before?"  
  
"Yes. And when they came to earth the first time, he was with us." Alex smiled, remembering the moment of near panic that Guy had experienced. He'd claimed that he was just a security guy, just one of the expendable people who died as soon as they were digitized onto the planet. It certainly hadn't been funny at the time, but in retrospect… "I think he got along well with the crew."  
  
"So, is he a semi-regular on the… umm, now?" Willow asked. "Does he have any idea about strategy and weapons?"  
  
"He has some familiarity with a couple martial arts styles, and a lot more with stunt work. I seem to recall that he planned to learn how to shoot after the last Thermian encounter." Alex touched his temple, itching under the Lazarus-cap.  
  
"So then, on to find Malthesar?" Willow held out her arm.  
  
"Yes, that sounds good. We need a bit more information before we can make our final plans." He placed her arm on his, and they went towards the office that he guessed Malthesar was the most likely to be using.  
  
End part 24. 


	10. parts 25 to 28

Angel watched as Gwen took the map to speak with Malthesar and a few other people who had been described as 'members of the Security Council'. He had the feeling that their position was more comparable to the FBI than to the LAPD. Several of them went into the room, bending over the map, while others remained outside, looking menacing.

Security... That should mean that they'd be well informed about the capabilities of their enemies. Angel walked closer, trying to look non-aggressive. "Could you tell me some about the combat abilities of the Dominionites?"

One Security Advisor looked at him, and gave a small sniff. "The Dominionites are stronger and faster than a human. You would be out-matched. For your safety, you should remain on the Protector."

Angel repressed the urge to snarl at the Thermian. "I am not human, I am a vampire."

"We are unfamiliar with this term." That Thermian was still giving him the dismissive eye. "You should remain where you are safe."

"What is the difference between a human and a vampire?" A second Security Advisor spoke, his expression blandly curious.

"Among other things, I am stronger and faster than a human. I can tell that while you are shaped like humans, you don't smell like humans." He held to his temper. Must not annoy the guards, especially when he had no idea what those little things at their belts were. The device could be a cell phone, or a scanner, or a hand held laser to disintegrate people.

"Dominionites are also stronger and faster than Thermians. We are somewhat stronger than humans. Is your strength greater than that of a Thermian?" The calm one asked.

"I haven't had a chance to find out." Angel commented, arms folded over his chest. "Possibly I could find a place to spar with someone?"

Tilting his head, the calm one appeared to be thinking about the situation. "Yes, it would be a prudent idea to determine your capabilities before a possible combat situation. If you are notably stronger than a human, you may be an advantage on a landing party, despite your lack of formal training at the academy."

Angel waited, reminding himself that these people were aliens, they shouldn't be expected to know everything about Earth. Jason wasn't in charge, which might be a good thing, these Security Advisors and Malthesar were, although he didn't know the details on the breakdown of power. "Where would be a good place to find out?"

"There is an area designed for exercise and hand to hand training. Follow me." With those words, the calm one started to walk out of the room.

With a small shrug, Angel followed. He was curious how a Thermian would hold up in a fight, and if they had any peculiar advantages or disadvantages that a human wouldn't have. At the very least, it would be better than lurking in gleaming metal corridors, wondering why indeed there was the mallet-choppy hallway.

Angel followed the Thermian down several hallways, with a few turns and a descent in the turbo-lift, which seemed pretty much like an elevator to Angel. More gleaming, identical hallways, and then a double set of doors opened onto what looked like an ultimate gym, created specifically to tempt health-fiends. There were several rows of gleaming, sleek exercise machines, some clearly based on weighted resistance, others reminding him of the exercise bike that had sat unused in a corner of Buffy's house. There were others that he couldn't identify, but surely had some sort of arcane, exercising purpose. There was also a large, open area with a different sort of floor covering, and a wall lines with mirrors.

As Angel followed the Thermian onto the mats, he could see the reflection of the Thermian frown, apparently alone on the matting.

"Why did you not follow..." Turning around, the Thermian jumped at the sight of Angel right behind him, his skin momentarily taking on a distinctly blue tone. He looked at Angel, and back at the mirror, the motion looking as if it should hurt his neck. "But you... you are not in the mirror. Why do you have no reflection?"

"I'm a vampire. No vampire reflects, although I don't understand why." Angel shrugged, not wanting to get into the mystical explanations that he'd heard before. "Are there any rules to be aware of before we get this started?"

"As this is for evaluation purposes, there should be no intention of extensive damage. The goal is not to break bones, tear tendons, or to leave any sort of nerve damage. Release holds on a request, and permit the fallen to regain footing." Pausing, the Thermian seemed to be mentally reviewing something. "And we should try to avoid killing strikes."

Angel nodded, "That seems fair enough."

With a huff of air, the Thermian moved forward, attempting to grab Angel. Reading the intent, Angel twisted out of the way, deciding to take the first few moments to evaluate how fast and agile his opponent actually was.

For several moments, it went that way, with the Thermian trying to seize Angel, and Angel avoiding. Gradually, Angel started to toss a few punches, establishing the reaction time and where the Thermian seemed swiftest to block. He was faster than a human, but seemed to have the same sensitive areas. He also kept trying to rely on the mirror to help him find Angel when he wasn't in the direct line of sight.

After several minutes, the Thermian managed to catch Angel, and flung him up and backwards, something that probably would have hurt a human badly. Grinning, Angel turned it into a backflip, landing on his feet for a single moment before lunging forward. "That's impressive, humans of your size can't pull that one off."

As the sparring continued, Angel came to the conclusion that the Thermians were stronger than humans, but not as strong as a newly risen vampire. They were however, as fast as a fledgling, something that should give them a definite advantage. Of course, skill and experience still counted for a lot...

He was grinning contentedly right up to the point where the arm that he'd grabbed suddenly turned into a blue tentacle. Angel was so startled that he let go, the Thermian spinning to the floor with a grunt.

"Wha... A tentacle?" Angel was now trying to make sense of what he'd just seen. "How?"

Carefully, the Thermian picked himself up from the matting, brushing at his uniform as if removing flecks of lint. He wasn't looking at Angel. "We do not look like this in our natural form. My people... we have a limited metamorphic ability. I apologize, I was distracted, and my shape slipped."

"You mean... when we first arrived, after being... what was the word? Digitized? Those were also Thermians?" Angel thought back to the odd octopus-looking creatures that had pointed their hair-dryer like devices at the newly arrived people.

"Yes." He still wasn't looking Angel in the eyes. Could he be embarrassed?

"Huh." Angel considered. There had been a lot of tentacles, that would definitely be an advantage in a fight. And if they were like the octopus types on Earth... "Do you actually have solid bones, or are they cartilage?"

Startled, the Thermian looked up, his eyes a spinning dark blue. "They are a stiffened cartilage while in human shape, and rather less stiff in our natural form. Our.... Our tentacles can not be broken in the same manner as a human arm."

"So, looking human on the ship is a matter of protocol?" Angel guessed, trying to sort this out.

"Yes." It was as if the Advisor was relaxing, slowly concluding that he wasn't about to get into trouble.

"The people that we're going to fight... They won't be as concerned with proper protocol. They might be willing to fight in their Thermian shapes." Angel commented. "What should I know about fighting a Thermian in their other shape?"

"There are not the calcified bones, as humans have. The tentacles are longer, giving a greater reach, though it is more difficult to do fine manipulations. Weak points..." He paused, as if uncertain of the wisdom of revealing his people's weaknesses. "Go for the eyes, or the place where the tentacles join together to form the central body mass. It is... sensitive. The head is also more vulnerable, but the tentacles are flexible enough to defend it well. In our natural shape, we have a greater length of reach."

"How much greater?"

"I am unfamiliar with the human units of measure." He paused, took a deep breath, and his body blurred, until he had entirely transformed into the octopus-like form, a deep blue in color. The tentacles curled around his body, which sat lower to the ground, and his head wasn't as high. A series of squeaks and chirps emerged. After another pause, tentacles on either side extended out stiffly, revealing a total tentacle-span of close to twenty feet.

"Okay..." Angel nodded, containing his surprise. "That's close to twenty feet. Are you pretty much the normal size for an adult Thermian?"

There was that same blurring, and he returned to his human form. "Yes. I am of average size for a Thermian. You... are not disturbed?"

"I've seen stranger occurrences. The fact that you can either look like a pale man or a blue octopus isn't a problem." Rubbing at his wrist, Angel paused. "Are all Thermians blue?"

"No, no... we come in many different colors. It was simply decided that our human shapes should have a similarity to them."

"Ah. I guess that makes sense." Angel nodded. "Considering the circumstances that led up to the Goriknak, they probably have other vampires working with them. A vampire doesn't have the same set of vulnerabilities as a human. Solid bones, yes, but we're tougher than humans."

"What are the vulnerabilities of a vampire?" He sounded curious.

"Fire or sunlight will burn us, not like a human, but much faster. Enough to destroy us if we aren't careful. You can't choke a vampire, we don't really need to breath. Strong pressure on nerve points will work on us as easily as a human. Decapitation will kill a vampire... When a vampire is killed, we... turn to dust. So, if a vampire is still there but not moving, he's either unconscious or faking, but not done for." Angel decided to leave out the whole part about crosses and holy water. That would probably just be too complicated.

"What effect would a laser have on a vampire?" The advisor seemed more comfortable now.

"I don't really know, science isn't my strong point. Maybe you should ask Willow... the Handmaiden." Angel commented.

End part 25.

Willow watched the surgery carefully, part of her rather disturbed and another part curious. She'd wanted to be a doctor when she was younger, wanted to be able to make injuries and illnesses better. Of course, she'd never lost a patient in her imaginings, and hadn't given any consideration to the idea that sometimes people die, that no matter how hard you tried, there were limits to science and the healing ability of the body. But this.... This procedure was not limited by human technology. They were actually rebuilding his knee, and applying some sort of pale green fluid to the ligaments and tendons.

"The fluid will help maintain the flexibility, and will encourage a rapid healing." One of the nurses spoke, dropping the emptied container into a gleaming trashcan. "There will also be treatments to lessen the pain, enough that he will be able to continue normal exertion, and his knee will heal completely."

"If he goes on a landing party, there could be trouble." Willow offered, frowning at Jason. "Will that damage his knee further, if he's in a fight?"

"Unless there are strong attacks directly on the knee, there should be no further damage." She paused, and held out a small gauzy pad to the doctor. "But it will be more sensitive."

As the surgery was completed, Willow waited against a wall, watching as Alex came closer. He had a bit of tension around his mouth, as if the blood had bothered him more than he wanted anyone to know. Smiling, she reached out, touching his elbow. "Hey. How about we go sit down, have a little coffee?"

Alex nodded, and then paused. "As I recall, the coffee aboard the Protector was... I will say that the tea was better. But there were some lovely desserts."

"Might I join the two of you for some conversation?" Doctor Teirell's voice was calm, and he was removing the apron-like protective drape that he'd worn for the surgery. "I have a few questions about the quantum manipulation."

Alex shrugged, and murmured, "That sounds reasonable enough. Perhaps the conversation should be somewhere more private, that we might not bore the rest of the crew?"

Part of Willow was disappointed, having hoped for a bit of time alone with her boyfriend. Then they could have some kisses, and snuggle. But they weren't in LA, they weren't even still on Earth, but were orbiting over the planet. "Hopefully they're questions that I can answer."

There was a bit of quiet while they made their way to a small lounge that looked as if there had been a wedge of leftover space, and the designers had simply stuck in a couch, a small table, and a pair of chairs. There was a small drink dispenser along one wall, and Alex promptly asked it for three cups of tea.

Willow settled on one end of the couch, watching as Dr. Teirell took one of the chairs. Alex sat beside her, passing her a tea, and placing one on the table for the doctor. She wondered if he would really be asking about quantum manipulations, if he knew that the 'historical broadcasts' were fake. And she wondered just how bad this crisis would get.

"Allow me to be.... Direct." Dr. Teirell lifted his cup, sipping a little of the hot beverage. "Before this mission, I spoke with Commander Malthesar. I am aware of the reality behind the original broadcasts, and the... validity behind them."

Alex winced, and glanced at his hands.

"I was a bit disturbed by that news, actually." He put the tea down, and folded his hands. "But the majority of the crew... think the broadcasts are real. They see you as heroes, and it is important that they keep the hope that your... that the presence of the heroes they think you are inspires. I find myself wondering how real the later broadcasts are, though the Fangor Beast... It raises questions."

"They are intended for entertainment." Alex spoke softly, looking slightly to the left of the doctor. "I have noticed the way the crew reacts to us, and I... would not want to disappoint them. Perhaps you can help me figure out a few minor things, so that I won't accidentally make things worse?"

"Of course." Teirell nodded, and then looked at Willow. "How real are the Princess and the Handmaiden?"

Willow sighed, and debated a sip of the hot tea, purely as a delaying tactic. "She's not really a princess, and she doesn't rule a planet, or even part of it. But she does get the visions, and they do show glimpses of the future. We don't know how the Fangor Beast got onto Earth, but that was real."

"And the Handmaiden? The green bolt?" Teirell was looking at her intently, his knuckles even paler.

"I don't work for her, but she is my friend. The bolt was real. It's a result of the quantum manipulations that I mentioned." Willow took a careful breath, and made his tea float off the table, lifting it to about eye level. "Some things are easier than others, but none of it is simple to explain."

For a moment, he just stared at the floating cup, before his hand reached out, passing below and then above the cup. "Amazing... This is a result of the quantum manipulation? How rare is the ability to do this? Can you teach others?"

"Well, not everybody seems to be able to learn to do as much with it, although I'm not sure if that's unequal ability or unequal effort that they put into it." Willow tried to consider how she should phrase the rest. "I know that the ability isn't limited to humans, because several other types of sentients that live on Earth have demonstrated the same abilities. I've never had the chance to try to figure out if people from somewhere other than Earth could learn or possess the abilities. I could see if I can spot anyone with the potential, but I'm still only learning myself, so I don't know how good of a teacher I would actually be."

"You can make things float, and send blasts of damaging energy... what else can the quantum manipulations do?" Dr. Teirell sounded fascinated.

"In theory, it can be used to heal injuries or illness, to delay time for an individual if they've been severely injured or poisoned, to start fires, create light or dark, to read minds, make barriers or break them, to hide things from sight, to enhance or inhibit certain types of efforts... Just about anything. But I can't do most of those things." Willow sipped at her tea, and floated Dr. Teirell's cup back to the table. "Most of them are too complicated now, or take more power than I can muster. Generally, a big thing takes more energy than a little thing, like floating a cup. And everything takes control, which takes practice. Otherwise, the cup might float, but not even, and then you'd have hot tea spilling everywhere, and that would make a mess, and possibly burn, and... I'm babbling. Sorry."

"Anything..." He repeated, his eyes getting a slightly glazed look, as if he was simultaneously awestruck and deep in thought of the possibilities. "Are there other limits, beyond the amount of power required and the need for control?"

For a few moments, Willow considered the spells and rituals that she'd done in the past. "There are ways that things can be... recorded. A pattern to follow to make things happen, but... Those can be modified. Certain techniques can help lessen the energy demand. People working together can do more than people working independently, but it's harder to mesh the efforts. And you have to be able to visualize exactly what you want, and if you can't control your emotions..."

"What if you can't? What if your emotions are unchecked?" The question was soft, as if he knew the answer would be unwelcome.

"Bad things can happen. Things could fall, or malfunction. Batteries will be dead, or empty. Nightmares can be shared." Willow pulled her knees up, and rested her chin on them, remembering how bad things had been when Oz had left. "Things can happen that you say or think about, but don't really mean."

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft hum of the ventilation fans. Then, Dr. Teirell spoke again, the words emerging slowly. "It does sound like a formidable, versatile, and dangerous ability."

End part 26.

Cordelia sipped at the murky not-coffee again, wondering if there could be a simple solution to the emotional tangle between herself and Jason. She was suspecting that the answer was no. No easy solution, because this was real life, not a television show. Maybe if they... no, after they both survived this mess, they'd have to have a talk.

For a moment, it was as if the air had changed, the texture somehow different, and then it felt like her skull was crushed inwards, along with flaring arcs of red and gold light and white stars.

A pair of Thermians, streaked with dirt staggering from a shuttlecraft, guards trying to help them. The security people were hit in the back of their heads and stuffed into the shuttlecraft. A disk was inserted into one of the computer accesses, and her stomach tightened at the image, and for a moment, she had a clear glimpse of the translucent green miniature CD in the intruder's hand...

Everything blurred, and there were flickering stars, and she was seeing a cavern below LA, with vampires attacking the landing party. One of them grabbed Jason, breaking his arm to force him to drop the blaster, and then ripping his throat open. A giant insect-like man was blasting at the others with a laser, the red beams almost the shade of blood....

A Thermian in a command uniform walked onto a panicked bridge, restoring calm with a few orders. He stepped into Malthesar's office, pulled a smaller blaster and fired a golden beam at Malthesar, who changed into a red octopus before disintegrating into a shower of red sparks.

Gasping, she tried to sit up, her eyes throbbing from the vision. Everything hurt, as if she'd been flung through space, which she knew hadn't happened. Her hand had a different pain, sharp and wet from where it lay in the spilled puddle of her so-called coffee. She could still feel herself trembling, and there were hands trying to help her up. "I need to talk to security."

"I think maybe you need a doctor." Fred Kwan's calm voice offered.

"No, I need to see security." Cordelia paused, feeling the way everything hurt and her hand was still feeling painful and burned. "Okay, have the security guy meet me in the medical area."

Cordelia let them help her towards the medical bay, trying not to move her throbbing head or look at the light. Had their footsteps echoed this much before? Had the lights been bright enough to leave purple-gold spots as after-effects? Was the ship tilting? Something told her that the answer to all three was 'no'.

"I have requested that a security commander be present to speak with you. And two doctors. Was that... it was one of your visions, was it not?" Laliari's words were quiet, as if she was uncertain how to react to the visions.

"Yes. And it's important, some of it happened on the ship. We have to prevent it." Her stomach heaved, and Cordelia hoped that she wouldn't throw up. The visions hurt, and the closer together they were, the worse they seemed to hit her.

"Can someone tell me why I'm here? I was at the gym, and now...." The voice wasn't familiar, but the man didn't have what she'd started to think of as the 'Thermian accent'.

"I guess they brought up Guy." Fred's comment didn't make much sense.

"A guy? Yeah, but..." Cordelia winced at the light, and closed her eyes. In a soft whisper, she asked, "Can I get some water?"

Laliari's voice sounded farther away as she said "The Princess had another vision, it seems to have unfortunate side effects. She needs attention, and there may be a burn on her hand."

"Guy Ingersoll. He was... he's our Head of Security, back in LA. Just like Alex is our doctor." Fred's voice was low, either in an effort to prevent the Thermian's from over-hearing or to try to spare her aching head. "Maybe they think he can help with the problem."

That same doctor was there again, frowning as he seemed to scurry towards her. A cool class of water was pressed into her hand, and something was hovering near her, like a silver hummingbird that beeped. From a bit farther away, someone's voice said "The recordings are being downloaded now, Doctor. There was intensive cerebral activity, and a lingering chemical imbalance. Shall I begin treatments to restore the proper electrical and hormonal balance now?"

"Gather your treatments. Highness, can you tell us what you experienced?" The doctor's voice was calm, and he was looking into her eyes, a taut frown on his bland face.

"There was the moment of warning... It comes right before a vision. Sometimes it's a few moments, other times it's less. I didn't put the coffee down in time..." She glanced at her hand, relieved that there weren't any blisters. "The first image was a shuttle craft in a landing bay. Two Thermians got out, and their uniforms were dirty. I think it was a pair of security guys that went to talk to them, and they got clubbed in the back of the head, stuffed into lockers, and the intruders had some sort of disk that hey put in the computer terminal."

"I'll have a few words with the boys about that." Guy's voice was thoughtful. "It's one of the oldest tricks in the book... they really should know how to deal with it."

The doctor made a hmmm noise, and poked her ear with something cold that made a small clicking and a beep. "Please go on."

"The next image was of our landing party, complete with Jason... I mean, Captain Taggert."

"What happened to Commander Taggert?" The doctor corrected the rank with a small smile.

"A vampire was there, and he broke J... the Commander's arm before ripping his throat out. And a giant bug looking guy had a laser rifle." Cordelia sipped at the water, hoping that it would settle her stomach. It tasted like metal, and seemed to cling to her throat.

"That would be a Dominionite." The man spoke again, and then in a less confident voice continued. "Didn't we blow those guys up the last time?"

"There are always more of them. Their larvae mature rapidly." The doctor hardly seemed to think before he spoke. "Was that the entirety of the vision?"

"There seem to have been three spikes of activity, sir." The nurses voice again, sounding entirely too calm. "I have the rebalancing treatments ready."

"Another Thermian... He was on the bridge. Everyone was panicking, until he said some things, restored order. Then he went into Malthesar's office and shot him with a little gold death ray." Cordelia shuddered, her muscles aching in dull protest. "His uniform looked a lot like Malthesar's except the piping was orange."

"This is... Nurse, please begin the treatments, immediately. Rest assured that everything will be taken care of, Princess Mirabanna." The doctor had that sort of calming tone that she recognized from numerous emergency room trips.

Cordelia sighed, hoping that whatever they were using to sedate her wouldn't upset her stomach any further. And that the security guy could deal with everything. And that Jason wouldn't get his throat ripped out by that vampire...

End part 27.

Alex sat beside Willow, wondering what emotions were clouding her eyes. He knew that she felt uneasy about the pressure of the safety of the universe resting on this ship, and being expected to help. He knew that the possibility of a relationship between Angel and Gwen worried her, though not the details. Was she troubled by Jason's knee repairs? By the synthesized food served on the ship? The potential danger from the renegades? Or was it something else?

Dr. Teirell excused himself with a murmured politeness that he paid little attention to. He just nodded, reaching out to take Willow's hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Her hand was shaking, not enough to see, but he could feel it. "Willow? Talk to me."

"They want something big. I mean, he didn't come out and say that they need some big mojo to drop the bad guys, but... He's hoping. And even if they don't want me to blast their enemies, he mentioned teaching others. I can't teach them, half the time I'm not even sure what I'm doing myself." She put down the teacup and wrapped her arm around him, clinging to his side. "What if I mess things up?"

"Willow... All you can do is your best. While I would dearly love to be able to say follow this script and everything will come out properly in the end, this... This is real. We don't get a script, and we don't have a guarantee that everybody will live happily after. But if we all try, if we work together... Maybe we can do this. And I'm here with you, I believe in you." He hugged her, trying to offer as much comfort and reassurance as he could.

"Promise?" Her voice was soft, muffled by his shirt.

"I promise that I'll be here with you. That I believe in you." For a moment, he closed his eyes, wanting to believe that everything would turn out well. That just like one of the old episodes, in the end, the good guys would triumph, evil would be vanquished, and nobody would be seriously hurt. "And I think Cordelia and Angel believe in you."

For several long moments, they sat there, holding each other. Then, Willow sighed, and loosened her grip. "I suppose we should be doing something to prepare. Maybe preparations for the landing party?"

"Should I go with you, or... I don't know, wander around hoping to see if any Thermians might have something to tell me they could learn magic?" She was trying to smile.

"As much as I'd like you to go with me..." Alex paused, thinking about her earlier words. Magic to create barriers. Hmmm... "Would it be possible for you to do something, some sort of protection for the landing party? Something to make them harder to hit, or more resistant?"

Willow opened her mouth, closed it again, and sipped at her tea, looking as if she was turning the idea over in her mind. "I... I'm not sure. I know that I could do something if I was there with them. Or if they were only a little bit away. But for them down there, and me up here... I don't know. I'm not even sure if I can do something to protect against whatever alien technology weapons they might have. But it's a good idea."

"Good. Perhaps I should see if Jason has recovered, or if Angel has any cautions about where they might be lurking?" Alex leaned forward, kissing her cheek.

She sighed, and nodded. "I guess that would be the responsible thing."

"We'll have a nice dinner when this is over. Just you and me, some take out, and a crackling fire." He offered, for a moment wishing that the nice dinner could be now. "And if I don't go now, I'll forget that we're supposed to be the responsible adults, with duties and a history of helping people."

He made himself walk away, heading first to check on Jason. The time for romance would be after they survived this, after the bad guys were defeated. Slowly, he walked back to the medical area, hoping that Jason was recovering well. And that nobody expected him to try anything technical and medical. Just because he'd played one on television, that did not make him a doctor.

As it turned out, the medical area was abuzz with activity. Cordelia had apparently had another vision, and was currently reclined on one of the beds, seemingly asleep. Guy Ingersol was there, gesturing as he spoke to Fred and a pair of Thermians that he didn't recognize. Several of the medical staff were conferring in a corner, glancing occasionally at Cordelia. Jason was on another bed, rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

"It appears that your sedatives are wearing off. How do you feel, Commander Taggert?" He allowed a bit of irony to creep into his question, hoping that one of the real doctors would come and take over the post-operative check up.

"Uuuggh." Jason made a face, and moved his jaw from side to side. "I feel like my head's full of cotton and my tongue's growing fur."

"Perfectly normal after-effects of the sedative, sir." A nurse spoke, making a few notes on something like a translucent clipboard. She pulled out a little light, shining it into Jason's eyes before making another note. "Any nausea, dizziness, or changes in vision?"

"No." He rubbed at his head, wincing. "The lights feel very bright. Will I be ready for the landing party?"

"There will be vampires." Cordelia's voice was very clear, despite the fact that she was laying on a bed. Apparently, she had only been resting her eyes. "Nasty, cranky minions who will want to hurt you."

"Just because you work with a vampire doesn't mean that the city is crawling with them." Jason was scowling now, but there was a hint of sparkle to his eyes. Did he take some sort of perverse pleasure in arguing with Cordelia?

"No, Captain." Cordelia's voice was just as sharp as ever. "I had a vision - vampires, an orange octopus, and an overgrown bug-man with a laser rifle. I suppose if you're that desperate to get yourself killed, you can just rush in, but generally the visions are in order to try to prevent people from dying."

"err..." Jason blinked, and a shiver passed over him. "That's Commander."

"Perhaps if the security detail is briefed on the proper tactics to use against vampires?" Alex suggested.

"Right. Vampires... wait a minute, vampires?" Guy looked around, glancing from Alex to Cordelia. "She mentioned vampires earlier, but could someone explain what's going on?"

"It's quite complicated." Alex sighed, rubbing at his temple. He was getting a headache, and this latex headpiece was really starting to make his scalp itch. "Why don't I explain what I can while we go figure out who's going down as security?"

end part 28.


	11. parts 29 to 31

Jason sat on the table, feeling grateful that Thermian surgery at least resulted in him wearing clothing while he was recovering. His head felt terrible, it tasted like his tongue had a fur coat, and his knee had a weird throbbing feeling, not quite an ache and not quite a bruise. They'd probably given him drugs.

Vampires. Cordelia had a vision of vampires attacking the landing party, of him being killed by one. It sounded unreal, like something that belonged in a movie. Right beside evil witches, psychotic terrorists and alien invasions. Except that the Thermians and the Dominionites were real. Except that he'd seen what had happened to Angel's face, seen the sharp teeth as he'd growled.

Couldn't he just wake up and find that this wasn't happening? That there would just be... No, that would be too easy. He was stuck in this strangeness, again. Only this time, things were even stranger than before. It wasn't a simple mess of the bad aliens trying to kill the good aliens. Some of the bad guys this time were Thermians, who were supposed to be the good guys. And it wasn't a mess fought somewhere deep in outer space, it was a mess right here on Earth. Right in his city, his home.

What would Commander Taggert do in a situation like this? What if this were just a scripted episode? He'd probably be looking a lot less groggy, charge boldly into danger, end up with his shirt off somehow, and kissing Cordelia by the end of the episode, bad guys defeated, crisis averted, and everyone close enough to safe. He didn't think it would be that easy in reality.

First, the bad guys would have real weapons, not just props. They would really want to hurt him. And she'd said vampires... He shuddered. "How do you fight vampires?"

"Fire, sunlight, decapitation, stake in the heart. Those are all pretty good." Cordelia offered, sipping at a cup of water. She looked almost gray, and one of the nurses wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

"Where are they going to be? Do we have a target area?" He wanted to be logical, to be brave. No, what he really wanted was to let someone else fix it all, but there wasn't anyone else. So he'd settle for looking like he was being brave and courageous about this. "Do we know how many of them there will be?"

"There's one bug-man. And an orange octopus, and at least six vampires, but I'm pretty sure there will be more than that." Cordelia offered, sipping again at her water. "There's normally more minions than that."

"You seem to be recovering nicely, why don't the lot of you take this elsewhere? This is a medical facility, not a chamber for planning battle strategies!" One of the doctors scowled, his hands making little flapping gestures as he tried to encourage them to get out.

"Alright then, we'll go plan for the battle." Jason slowly slid down from the bed, tensing in anticipation of his knee hurting again. It really hadn't been quite right since the Fangor beast had clawed him. But the expected flare and popping sensation was absent. He just couldn't quite feel his foot.

"Not the Princess. She needs to stay so that we may be certain our treatment has worked and carries no complications." The nurse was glaring at him.

"errr... Right." Shaking his head, Jason started towards the door, feeling slightly better as people began to follow him. "Why's she so mad at me?"

"She was one of your surgical nurses, and said that you really should have had proper medical attention for your knee immediately." Willow offered, looking far too calm about the whole thing. As if she dealt with vampires everyday. Maybe she did.

"What else do we need to worry about? Vampires and illegal Thermian weapons..." He was pretty sure things would have at least one more complication.

"She said it'll be underground, in some tunnels." Guy recalled, and then frowned. "Isn't it pretty hard to get sunlight in tunnels? Is it going to be sewer tunnels?"

For a moment, Jason closed his eyes, hoping that Guy wasn't claustrophobic. A panicking security guy in tunnels would not be a pretty sight.

"I think, considering everything, that it might be best if I remain on the ship this time." There was something in Alex's voice, as if he was trying to hide something. Maybe just the fact that they were all frauds? "Dr. Teirell can recommend a good choice for the landing party, possibly a doctor with combat experience?"

"Right, and then at least one of us will be safe on the ship." The comment came out a bit louder than he'd intended.

"Safe? Safe? You think the ship will be safe? There's a plan in motion where they will try to seize control of the Protector, which will mean killing any and all resistance, especially those of us from Earth. I wouldn't call that safe." Alex was glaring, and either the makeup was going or he'd picked up some dark circles under his eyes.

"But we know about their plan, and can stop it." He tried to give the confident Taggert grin, and pointed at Guy. "You're on top of stopping this plan, right? Everything's set?"

"I still want to have a few words with my security guys. It shouldn't be a problem, but if someone manages to digitize their way in... different situation entirely." Guy frowned, and cracked his knuckles. "I think we should be able to manage those."

"Good, take care of that." He nodded, thinking that it was good not to be the one who had to think of everything. "How do we deal with the vampires quickly?"

For a moment, the room was quiet, and then the doors whooshed open behind him.

"Pardon, is the Handmaiden... Ahhh, there is the Handmaiden." A strange Thermian in a dark blue uniform had just opened the door, and was giving them all the wide, somehow flat Thermian smile. "Can you offer any ideas on how vampires would react to laser fire?"

end part 29.

Guy took advantage of the interruption to stand up, commenting "I'm going to go talk to my security people."

Being here, back on the Protector was intense. They noticed him, he wasn't just some nobody wanna-be actor when he was here, he was Guy Ingersoll, Chief of Security. It was great. And it was terrifying, because he was the Chief of Security, and they were putting their lives, everybody's lives into his hands. And he wasn't trained to do that, he didn't know how to organize and run security and defense, he was just an actor who'd taken some self defense classes and learned how to shoot. And if they ever learned that truth, it would be a disaster.

He took a deep breath as he walked down the halls, hoping that his efforts to learn the plans and diagrams of how the ship was put together would pay off, that he could find his way to the Security centers. He'd both hoped and dreaded that a day like this would come. They must never learn that he was a fake, and he'd have to be the best damn Chief of Security that he could manage. And the first step, after he got to the right place, was to make sure they knew how to deal with a few basic tricks. Like wounded strangers in the docking bay, or the 'oh, look behind you' trick.

He almost wished that he could live in a place where such tricks were unknown. But they weren't completely unknown. Not if the bad guys had them. Didn't these people ever play cops and robbers when they were kids? No, they didn't have that make-believe concept among the Thermians.

The feel of the corridor beneath his feet kept reminding him that this was serious. It made an almost quiver and clang with every step, something the sets had never done. The air was slightly more humid, and had a strange faint smell that he couldn't quite describe, a smell that he'd only encountered here, and the lighting wasn't quite florescent, but something just a little gentler, without that headache inducing flicker.

"Sir." The voice of one of the Thermians brought his attention back. "What are your orders?"

"First, I want a group of you to gather together. I've received some information of probable tactics that the pirates will be using, and I want to try to prepare all of you for them. If they don't try those tricks, I'm sure there are other bad guys in the galaxy who might." He let his breath out slowly, and hoped that he'd remember how to use the screen and light-tracing thing that they had instead of chalk and a blackboard.

Thermians began to enter the room, all wearing the uniforms of Security. As they took seats in front of him, a few more came in, wearing different uniforms with insignia that he didn't recognize. From the way that his boys – when had they become his? – Considering the way his Security people moved for them, he assumed that they were of some sort of higher rank. He could figure that out later.

"Right, glad that you could all get here so promptly." He decided to begin, and hoped that the technology didn't trip him up. A click of the little button, and the tip of the not-chalk glowed orange. "There are a few tricks that the bad guys might use, and according to the Princess, they're going to try at least one of them."

Slowly, he traced out a rough diagram of a docking bay, complete with the shuttle and the doors, the lockers, and little blobby boxes where the computer and control panels were. "First, we're going to pretend that this is a good representation of the docking bay. Normal procedure is for two Security personnel to be on hand at any time when a shuttle might be expected to land. The reason for this is that if something happens, one of you should be able to sound an alarm."

"An alarm?" The words came from one of the guys in the second row. "But if one of our shuttles comes back..."

"Can you tell who's in the shuttle just by looking at it?" He asked.

"But the computers can tell us who went out." It sounded as if the Security officer knew that he was missing something, but not quite where.

Smiling, Guy nodded. "Yes. The computer can tell you who went out in the shuttle. But the shuttles go to planets or other ships, often into dangerous or hostile situations. They aren't that difficult to pilot, someone else could slip into the shuttle and fly it to the ship."

This was greeted by worried and unhappy murmurs, and one clear comment "They are law breakers, they will not care that that is unauthorized."

"That's right, your job is to defend this ship and the people aboard from law breakers. From people who will do things they shouldn't. And they might try to trick you. Not just by being on a shuttle that they shouldn't, but... Here's an old trick that has been used a lot on Earth. The shuttle lands, and a couple guys stagger out. Their clothing's messed up, torn, dirty, maybe bloody. They look like they need help. So the guys watching go over to help them. He paused, and tapped the board to make sure he had their attention. "And here's where the trick comes in. Sometimes, people fake being injured. Then, when the Security comes over, they straighten up, bash you on the back of the head, and take you down. They then have access to your ship, and you are captured, possibly injured or killed. We want to avoid this."

The murmuring stopped, and all of them were watching him. It was a little unsettling, actually.

"Sir?" The Thermian had that slightly awkward expression of uncertainty. "How should we react to the situation that you have described? With two apparently injured people emerging from a shuttle?"

"The first thing to do is send word to the medical area that a shuttle has arrived that appears to have wounded personnel. This lets someone know there's a shuttle, and that something's wrong, even if we don't know what the details are yet. Then one of you should go to offer assistance and learn more. If they're really injured, then the other can request a medical team come to the docking bay, and if it's a trap, the other is still by the comm. And can raise the alarm." He explained, and then looked to see if anybody was having trouble processing that.

"The next old trick that I want you to know about is one that really doesn't have a name, and it comes in a lot of variations. Say you're moving towards a guy. He suddenly looks behind you, seems very afraid, and ducks." Guy resisted the urge to tell them all about the rules for evil overlords, and how many that scenario violated.

"We don't turn around and look?" The Thermian seemed to be catching on as he asked the question.

"Exactly. Instead, you make a move, preferably shooting with some sort of stunner, or tackle him." Guy paused, considering what he'd been saying. One thing was trying to set off a warning in his mind. "And always remember that females can be just as dangerous as villains as males can. The injured woman could just as easily be trying to trick you as an injured man."

As he continued, he noticed that some of the Security guys pulled out little hand-held computers and started taking notes. It gave him an odd warm feeling, and he smiled as he continued explaining basic tricks.

End part 30.

Willow blinked, considering the Thermian's words. He didn't have the same uniform as the crew of the Protector, which matched the ones worn by Alex and the other actors, but it looked like he was someone semi-important. Maybe one of those other people that had come with Malthesar? From some sort of Security Council... Willow wondered if that was like the UN or NATO or something.

"I'm not entirely certain. If we could go to somewhere that I could study the blaster shorts, or if you have the energy frequencies in English... I can't read Thermian." The question was actually pretty good, and she was curious about it herself, now that it had been brought up.

"As you are, at least for the moment, considered a civilian consultant, it would only be prudent that you have at least a small understanding of our standard weapons." The vice sounded almost emotionless, but his aura hinted at amusement. "Perhaps you should accompany me to the firing range?"

"That sounds good." Willow nodded, wondering if that was actually the meaning of the not-quite uniforms that they'd all ended up in after their medical examinations. "Please, lead the way. I'm not sure where everything is in the ship."

"That's two people who've slipped out now." Jason's mutter was barely audible.

They walked quietly through long silvery corridors, and Willow glanced at him, noticing that even for a Thermian, he looked a bit tense. "So, umm... what exactly does the Security Council do?"

"Recent years have seen a time of great tragedy for the Thermian people, and we we are forced to rebuild, and to try to take greater measures to ensure that there is no recurrence. It was decided that an organization for the protection and defense of the Thermian people was needed, and that is the purpose of the Security Council. To defend our people from all threats, external or from within." He sounded as if he was trying to avoid painful memories.

"I'm sorry for that. For whatever the bad thing was that hurt your people so much." Willow offered. It sounded like they were a combination of the CIA and the UN all in one.

He nodded tensely, and they continued down the hall. Eventually, there was a larger door, which opened to a small antechamber, with a rack off what looked halfway between sunglasses and those protective safety glasses from chemistry class. "You will need a unit of protective eyewear."

"Right." Willow began trying them on, discovering that for all their near uniform appearances, there was apparently variety in the size of Thermian heads. Eventually, she found a pair that fit comfortably, sliding them over her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Okay, on to the firing range. Oh boy."

She tried to listen very carefully as he outlined the safety precautions, feeling relieved to know that she couldn't accidentally hit anybody else as she tried to learn a little about the weapon. Closing her eyes, she tried to get a feel for the weapon, to see if she could sense the energy that it drew from the charge unit, which sounded an awful lot like a battery to her. She could feel it, but as it was, it was something that she didn't know how to manipulate. "Okay, on to the firing area."

Willow carefully set the unit to the lowest power setting, double checking to make certain that she remembered the settings. Glancing down at the line of targets, she wondered if there was a particular reason why they'd made the circles alternating rings of greens and blues, and then dismissed the question for later. Taking a deep breath as she tried to forget how she wasn't very good with a crossbow, Willow fired off a shot.

There was no recoil at all, which was much more enjoyable than the crossbows, which always felt like they were trying to escape. Remembering that she wasn't just here to watch the pretty lights, she raised it again, and this time closed her eyes so that she could try to feel for the energy. It really didn't matter if she actually hit the target or not.

She could feel it as the bolt gathered and left the gun. It hummed in her mind, sort of like the fan in her computer, and she thought that maybe... The bolt hit the target and dispersed. Okay, try again. She pushed with her mind, trying to deflect the bolt's path.

"You changed its direction!" His voice was astonished. "How... What technology did you use for that?"

"Quantum manipulations." Willow grinned. "From the feel of it, it should work just fine against vampires, it might burn a little on the lower settings, but the higher levels... umm, let me check the feel of those."

She turned her attention to the gun, adjusted the power to high, and fired down the range, closing her eyes to feel for the intensity. "That should practically vaporize a vampire."

Willow returned the weapon to its lowest setting, and handed it back. Her mind was considering all the protection spells that she knew of, and debating the relative merits of each. If she could make a shield that would stay on far enough away, that could protect against those energies... Maybe.

"You seem very quiet, Handmaiden." His voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Please, call me Willow." She smiled, hoping to keep everything sorted out in her mind. "I'm assuming that the bad guys will have weapons that work like that?"

"Most likely they will." He agreed.

"I'm trying to figure out a way to offer some protection to the people who go down to the planet. So that if they get hit, they might not be killed." Willow explained.

"Can you do that with your quantum manipulations?" He sounded very impressed.

"I don't know. You said that it bent? One of the shots?" Willow asked. "Because, if it bent, then that means that I can affect the blasts, at least when I'm close. The hard part is trying to find a way to protect them if I'm not with them."

"It did bend." He sounded thoughtful, and perhaps a bit worried. "Are these quantum manipulating abilities very common?"

Willow considered the best way to answer his question, remembering all of the things that she'd done with her gift. Angel's soul, the enjoining, fighting Glory, bringing back Buffy... "To have any at all isn't very common on earth. To have enough to do some of what I can... That's even less so. Doctor Teirell already asked if I could see if any Thermians have the ability to learn a little."

"I have to say that the ability to bend blaster fire being uncommon is reassuring." His tone was just a bit dry.

Willow couldn't quite keep from giggling.

End part 31.


	12. parts 32 to 34

Gazing at the stars through the window, Angel realized that he was grinning. Again. Really, he should be more nervous about going down with a group of shape-shifting octopus people and an actor to fight vampires, more octopus people, and maybe another one of those two legged pig things in the sewers and tunnels, but… Part of him just though the whole thing would be fun.

Violent, nasty, lethal fun, just like he'd always loved as Angelus.

He'd been trying to feel guilty about that as well. He shouldn't be looking forward to this. Fighting was supposed to be bad. The idea of Jason Nesmith getting his neck snapped was supposed to be bad… nah, he couldn't quite keep a straight face at that one. He'd never particularly cared for the actor that Cordelia was dating, and couldn't make himself worry as much. He could feel guilty about what he… Angelus had done, but the upcoming fight still sounded like fun.

Maybe Jason would get himself hurt, some nice bruises, maybe a concussion. It had been annoying when he'd freaked out and accused Cordelia and Willow of being nuts. The bad guys would be more than happy to hurt him, he wouldn't have to do anything personally.

"Angel?" Willow's voice, slightly uncertain. "I think… I had an idea for something to try. Against the blaster fire."

"Will it work?" He asked, looking at her. She seemed to be dealing well with this, or perhaps it was finally a benefit of living over the Hellmouth. Although to be fair, Cordelia had been dealing pretty well until another vision had flattened her, leaving her pale and shivering in the med lab.

"Maybe. I'm almost completely certain that it would if everyone was staying here, but you're going to be pretty far away from me, because I can't see them sending me to the tunnels to fight, and the distance…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "It should work."

"What do you need to do?" He hoped it didn't have burning sage or feathers, both smells lurked in the air for hours and made his eyes itch.

"I'm trying something a little bit different this time." Willow smiled, and stepped closer, her expression determined.

"What are you planning?" Angel didn't like that smile. It spoke of plots and ideas and it reminded him strongly of an expression that Darla had used. One that had always led to him getting in trouble. "Willow?"

She reached out, and tugged sharply on his hair, pulling a few strands away. "Got it. Sympathetic magic. If I have a little bit of everybody here and put the shield on that, it might work from farther away than if the shield's over you and I'm trying to hold it from orbit."

Part of him wanted to protest the whole sympathetic magic voodoo thing, and another part of his mind stuck on what she'd said. To hold a spell from orbit. "That would be pretty far."

"Yeah. And while I'm strong, that's…" She shook her head, and sighed. "The whole idea screams arrogance, you know?"

He waited in the shuttle, smirking just a little as Willow plucked a couple hairs from everybody, amused at the way Jason glared at her for it. He barely managed not to laugh as she stuck her tongue out at his back.

Angel tried to pay attention to the briefing. He knew that it would be important to know how many they could expect to run into, and what weapons they might have, but… He kept listening to Willow chanting over her collected hairs, and imagining the violence that would follow. Minions to dust, a giant bug man to squish… Would the Thermian's taste like calamari?

He'd really best get something to eat when they got back. He probably should have done it earlier. Picturing the effort to explain to the doctors why he needed to drink some human blood… Angel shuddered. Awkward and embarrassing. His stomach tensed, and hunger stirred. Jason was starting to look tasty, he'd really best get something safe to eat soon.

There was a ripple of sensation over his skin, a faint haze that danced just over his arm, flickering at the edges of his vision. Nobody else seemed to notice anything. Wait, one of the security men was looking at his hand, and then at the person next to him, rubbing at his eye as if trying to get something out. Maybe he'd best talk to Willow about that security guard learning magic when this was over with.

Guiltily, Angel fastened the seat belt as the shuttle prepared for departure, hoping that he hadn't missed too much while his mind had wandered. One bug man, three evil Thermians, and an unknown number of vampires in the tunnels. How hard could it be?

End 32.

Cordelia leaned back, closing her eyes as the nurses and doctors spoke over her. Some of the words were in Thermian, and she decided not to worry too much as they spoke to each other. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that she was being pampered in a luxurious spa.

"Princess Mirabanna?" The soft voice sounded faintly worried. "We have looked over your scan results, and the readings of your last vision."

"Your conferral hasn't left you happy." For a moment, she just wanted to rail at the universe. But there would be time for that later, she had to be composed for now. "What did you conclude?"

"The actual vision experience causes a neural overload, which is the source of the initial pain." He paused, glancing at one of the other doctors before he continued. "You are left with an assortment of free floating neuro-transmitters, and chemical imbalances, which are the cause of the lingering headache. Our guess is that your body does not succeed in restoring the levels to their proper balance before the next vision, leaving your neuro-transmitters increasingly out of balance."

"We are concerned for your long term health." One of the nurses added.

"I'm concerned for my long term health as well." She tried not to snap at them. It wasn't their fault, and Doyle couldn't have known about this. "Is there something that you can do about this? Or am I just doomed to slowly… what, will I die? Go crazy?"

"There is still speculation about what would happen if the imbalances remained untreated." The doctor spoke again, with a slight frown. "However, we feel that there is no reason that we could not develop a long term form of treatment. While you are aboard the Protector, we can easily adjust these levels. Our hope is to have something for you to keep with you when our mission in this quadrant had been completed."

"Good." The word was a bit faint, but Cordelia really wasn't certain how else to react. They'd just said that the visions were killing her, or close enough to it. They hoped that they could have a treatment to help her. She'd known that they hurt, and that it had been getting worse lately, but to have it confirmed like that was just chilling.

"You might wish to rest in one of the lounges for a time. We will inform you when we have a solution, and many people do not care to hear the technical discussions." The nurse suggested gently.

"I suppose so." Cordelia slowly sat up, her head still throbbing. But her vision wasn't blurred anymore, and the lights no longer hurt her eyes, so she supposed that it was an improvement. "I think I'll get something to eat first. Toast or something."

Cordelia returned to the place where she'd tried to drink what passed for coffee. This time, she ordered toast and orange juice. When it came out, the juice was closer to yellow than orange, but it smelled and tasted right. Once she'd managed to sip and nibble that down, she felt much better.

She wandered through the halls, feeling oddly restless. What was she forgetting? She'd been to the doctors, talked to Guy Ingersol about the security questions, and had something to eat. There were better fighters to send down to take care of the vampires and the Thermian aspiring conquerors. Malthesar… Had anyone warned Malthesar?

Cordelia frowned and headed for the nearest elevator, or lift, or whatever name they used for them. To her dismay, all of the buttons were marked with funny squiggles, which were probably really self-explanatory if you read Thermian. Taking a deep breath, she decided to try something, and spoke aloud. "Computer, this is the Princess Mirabanna, and I need to get to the bridge to speak with Malthesar. It is of vital importance."

For a long, silent moment, Cordelia thought that nothing was happening. Then, the voice of the computer systems spoke. "Please take hold of the security bar, and hold tightly. Wait until the lift comes to a complete halt and the doors are fully open before exiting."

Cordelia's held the bar, her mind comparing the computer's words to the safety warning at roller coasters. That lasted until the lift zoomed into motion, a row of red lights flickering over the buttons. Her knuckles went white and she tried to keep from hyperventilating. It jerked to a halt, and the doors opened with a squeak, revealing the bridge, multiple Thermians busily bent over panels of blinking lights, toggles and dials. Malthesar was standing near the chair, in what she'd come to think of as Jason's spot.

Hoping that her stomach didn't rebel from the elevator trip, Cordelia stepped onto the bridge. "Malthesar? There's something that we need to talk about. Is there somewhere more private?"

"Of course, Princess. Right this way." He had that Thermian smile, too wide and not really reaching the eyes, or maybe his face wasn't quite moving right, she wasn't certain quite which.

She waited until they were in his little office, a computer screen glowing softly green, before she spoke. "I had a vision earlier. You were in part of it, and I wanted to warn you."

"You believe that I will be in danger? I am remaining on the ship, where would the danger come from?" He sounded faintly curious and a little worried. Perhaps he was remembering her comments about the pig-monster, or the way that 'Princess Mirabanna' was supposed to have access to great wisdom or however the script had explained it.

"There was another Thermian, in the command uniform. He came onto the bridge, and you came in here to confer. He pulled a little hand weapon, and shot you with a yellow light, about the same color as the orange juice on the ship. You…" Cordelia paused, trying to keep her voice steady and remember all the details. "You turned into a red octopus before disintegrating into red sparks."

His jaw dropped, and Malthesar sat down in his chair. Apparently, he was going to give her warning a lot more weight than Jason had. "I shall be careful."

"Good." She really wasn't certain what else to say. "So, have they launched the shuttle yet?"

end 33.

Gwen sat in the chair, her eyes directed towards the screen displaying Los Angeles. She wanted to be able to help somehow, to be able to make it more likely that everybody would come back to the ship alive and safe. Or at least, as much as they were to begin with. Angel wasn't alive, he was a vampire. She shivered as she thought about that, about the words he'd spoken earlier. About vampires being real, and the chance that if they became too close, if he became too happy, he would become evil, become an enemy.

Her fingers touched her lips, where she could still taste his kiss, and she smiled. Angel was so many of the things that she'd always wanted, and it was hard to try to resist him and his charm. At the same time, what he'd said was frightening, not just because if vampires were real, and magic was real, how much else? Willow had said that many things from horror stories were fact, at least in Sunnydale, but how many? She should walk away, avoid any further entanglements with Angel. That would be the safe and sensible thing to do.

She didn't want to be sensible. She wanted to have the breathtaking, intense passion that could change worlds, or at least her world. But not if it resulted in him killing her and everyone around her.

The computer beeped, and Gwen blinked, her eyes focusing once more on the map. The landing party would be leaving any moment now to try to fight the pirates. There would be communicators in case they had to pass a message. Maybe she could find something… "Computer, scan for subterranean openings in the area on the screen. Also, indicate the location of the Sigma class engine."

"Scanning." Colorful marks appeared to the side, things that she was starting to recognize as Thermian letters. The buildings faded to gray, and shapes began to form underneath in greens and blues, indicating a myriad of tunnels and some larger openings. A single mass glowed orange, something that could only be the Sigma engine of their ship.

"Computer, can you determine if the Sigma engine is in a functional ship?" Gwen asked, fear sending a rush of focus into her. If the ship was operational, if they could fly it, what would stop them from coming up here, attacking the Protector?

"The ship appears to have significant structural damage. There is leakage of electrons and Paellin particles, and it is sixty three percent unlikely to be able to hold atmosphere against vacuum. Sigma class ships contain three shuttlecraft." The computers calm voice replied.

"So they're going to want a better ship, one that isn't broken." She mused, and then glanced at the wall. "They're going to want another ship, and this is the only one in the area. Computer, can you locate the shuttlecraft that should be with the sigma engine's ship?"

"The shuttlecraft from that ship would have the same scan signatures as the shuttles on this ship. Do you wish to access navigation systems to get ship identification signals as well as engine type analysis?" The ship's computer remained calm.

For a moment, she debated with herself. How likely was it that accessing the navigation computers would cause a problem? With a sigh, she decided that she was being paranoid – they were in orbit, not navigating an asteroid field. Laredo wasn't likely to need a lot of navigation processing right now. "Yes. Locate and identify every shuttle in the solar system, and display on a screen."

The screen blanked, and then a diagram of the solar system blinked on, and the focus zoomed in on Earth. There was a glowing yellow light that was the Protector, and four orange dots inside, which would be their shuttles in the proper shuttle bays, and an orange dot moving away from them towards the planet below. Two orange dots glowed on Earth, underneath Los Angeles, and there was another dot moving upwards.

"She was right." Gwen breathed, remembering Cordelia's explanation of the enemy's tactics. "She was right that they'd send up a shuttle and try to get in."

"Guy?" She spoke into the communicator, trying to remain calm. "Guy, are you listening?"

"I hear you, lieutenant. What's the situation?" His voice came back, slightly tinny from the communicator.

"We have an incoming shuttle. Ours just left, so it can't be them coming back. Make sure your people are ready." She could hear the tremor in her voice. "I think they might have a hostile boarding party."

"I've briefed them, and we should be ready." His voice came back, sounding far more confident.

Gwen just hoped that he was right.

End 34.


	13. parts 35 and 36

Alex Dane tried to remain calm as he tapped on the office door of Dr. Teirell. Knowing that someone else was also aware of the truth, that he was just an actor, that the Galaxy Quest broadcasts weren't real, it was quite a relief. But there was one thing that he could do to offer some assistance, and that was to serve as a reference on humans for Teirell.

The door whooshed open, and Dr. Teirell smiled stiffly. "Dr. Lazarus, please, come in. I wanted to ask your opinion on a few matters."

"Of course, of course." He stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. "Is there a way that I can be of assistance to you?"

"Actually, I would like to consult with you. I'm uncertain how much you would know of the workings of the human brain chemistry, but you would surely know more about vampires than I do." Teirell settled at his desk, and pulled one of the small recording devices from one drawer. "The warrior called Angel is something called a vampire, and it causes some medical concerns, but beyond that, I have no idea what the word means."

Alex nodded, and settled in the second chair. "Did you run a standard diagnostic on him? Blood work?"

"The basic scans indicate that from a physical standpoint, he is…" Dr. Teirell paused, and shook his head. "Angel is a corpse with brain activity consistent with a living individual. There are elements in his blood that are not found in the blood of any of the rest of you from Earth, though you are a rather small group for a good statistical sample."

"Vampires are widely believed to be no more than a myth." Alex murmured, and then looked at Dr. Teirell. "Clearly, that is not true. There are a large number of stories, but I am uncertain how many of them are true, or would be of use. They do agree that vampires must drink blood to continue their existence, which I assume can be dealt with by use of the replication technology. Another point that is highly agreed upon is an extreme sensitivity to sunlight. Many stories also include increased strength and reflexes, or the vampire healing more rapidly from injuries than ordinary humans."

"How?" Dr. Teirell sounded fascinated.

"That's where the uncertainty comes in. Angel might be the best person to ask, but I believe he was on the shuttle for the landing party." Alex rubbed at his temple, considering. "Willow and Cordelia are both familiar with vampires, they might have an idea, but Willow left with the Security Advisor to see if she could make use of her quantum manipulations to offer some defense against blaster fire, and she's probably going to be quite busy with efforts in that direction. Would Cordelia be sufficiently recovered from her latest vision to make a few inquiries?"

"Possibly." For a moment, he stared down at the small device, and then looked back up. "Can you give me any idea what would happen to a human whose brain chemistry goes too far out of balance? Her neurotransmitter levels were unbalanced in the aftermath. A Thermian… There would be pain, dizziness, nausea, and eventual inability to wake followed by death."

"That actually sounds rather similar to what would happen to a human, though the specific transmitters might be different. There are several theories among earth doctors that the brain chemistry can cause illnesses and pain in other areas of the body, so that might be a possibility, though I'm not an expert on such things." Alex murmured, trying to be as thorough as possible.

"As a human, do you think that Cordelia would have strenuous objections to some sort of implanted device to regulate her neurotransmitter levels?" Dr. Teirell murmured, his hand already tapping at something on the hand unit. "I think we could create something to serve that purpose, if Lt. Madison and Willow might be useful as templates for ordinary levels of brain chemistry."

For a moment, Alex desperately wished that he knew more about medical matters. But he was an actor, he would have to make the best of the situation. "We can only hope that would be an acceptable plan. Neither of them have any sort of brain disorders that I am aware of, and if a certain amount of leeway is programmed in to the device… It might depend on how invasive the procedure would be and how much difficulty she is currently having with the visions."

"So, what is your opinion, then?" The soft question hinted that this was a serious matter to Teirell.

"Ask her. Explain the procedure and what it should do as clearly as possible, and ask if she would like it to be done. Be as clear as possible about the possible risks and benefits. Then possibly you could see if she would have any better information about vampirism." Alex offered. "And this is something that should be handled delicately. While her visions are real, the crew might not be pleased to know what price she is paying for them."

"Yes, that's a very good point." Dr. Teirell agreed thoughtfully.

End part 35.

Fred Kwan watched as several of the engineering staff scurried over the engines. The last time he'd been here, there had been a few problems with the engines, and he'd suggested that maybe they should be prepared this time. Any possible places that could turn into problems would be located before such a problem could occur.

"Another point with minute pitting from the reactors, sir." One of the techs called, his voice a bit higher than most of the Thermians. "What should we do about it?"

"How long would it take to replace or repair all the pitted surfaces?" Fred asked, knowing that they would have a bit of a time crunch until after the problems on under Los Angeles had been taken care of.

"Approximately seven hours to replace all the pitted panels that we've discovered so far, though we could get a patching done in four." The senior engineer spoke, the one who was really running things, but considered himself answerable to Fred Kwan. "Replacements would hold better than a patch, but we would have to take the engines offline and shut them down completely for either one."

For a moment, Fred considered the dangers of the pitting, and then the possibility of attack from the enemies. "The people down there are going to want this ship, either to take it or destroy it."

"Sir?" One of the junior techs murmured, looking as if he wasn't quite certain what he was even asking.

"We might need to be able to maneuver the ship, we can't afford to be an immobile target for this." He looked at the senior engineer, who was nodding his understanding. "There could be a sudden need to move very fast, or sudden pressure on the shields. I don't know what they have, it could stress things too much. We need to be prepared, and those pitted places would be the most likely places for trouble to start."

"Most logical, Sergeant Chen." The engineer agreed. "Be prepared, there could be electrical fires, energy surges, and possible leaks."

The engineering department scurried to work, preparing for any potential trouble. This time, they would be ready before there was a chance that the engines would explode. This time, they'd be ready to stop any problems before they got that big.

The shuttlecraft soared upwards, the gleaming lines of the Protector clearly visible on their screens. The Protector was clearly superior to the ship that had landed them on the miserable, primitive planet now beneath them.

"I like it." The pilot murmured, a wide smile on his pale face. "Perhaps it could use a little change of management, though."

"You like it because it does not require the extensive repairs as the Coou'Eeeilo. Nobody's crashed this one into the surface of a planet." His partner grumbled.

"We will just have to be certain that we don't let the control shattering programs corrupt the navigation this time." The pilot's assurances gave no consideration to the chances of failure. "They won't know what hit them."

"They play by the rules, of course they won't know what hit them." There was a snicker, and then pale hands touched controls.

"Hailing Protector, shuttle requesting emergency docking. We have injuries and engine damage, and assistance is necessary. Repeat, assistance is necessary." His grin was a far cry from a match for the message of distress.

"We'd best make sure we look the part." His partner reminded him.

Uniforms were ripped, the edges singed as if by blaster fire, and fluids, a mingling of some of the punished vamper foot soldiers and the wall scrapings of their inadequate base, were smeared on, giving the impression of serious bodily injuries.

Slowly, the shuttle bay doors opened.

End part 36.


	14. parts 37 to 40

Cordelia frowned as she felt two people looming behind her. It would have been much more worrisome if not for the fact that the people on the ship wouldn't hurt her, but it still made her uncomfortable. "Did you want something?"

"Doctor Teirell and I have been conferring about possible treatments, and we had a few questions for you." That velvet voice could only belong to Alex Dane, currently impersonating a doctor. "Perhaps we could confer privately in the smaller viewing lounge?"

"Well, I had finished here." She rose to her feet, clenching her jaw against the sudden dizzy feeling that was part of the normal after effects of a strong vision. Placing her hand on Alex's arm, she tried to smile charmingly, hoping that it didn't look like a pained grimace. "Lead the way, doctors."

"I see the side effects are very much along the same lines as a Thermian would experience." Dr. Teirell's voice was calm, as if these 'side effects' were something perfectly ordinary. "I will have a few additional questions about those after we are seated again, Princess."

"This means that you've been doing more research on my…" Cordelia paused, reconsidering how to say things. If the whole idea was not to alarm the crew, it wouldn't do to say her condition, or to imply that the visions were dangerous. "On that question?"

They stepped into the viewing lounge, and a touch from Teirell's hand sent the door whooshing closed, followed by an odd squeak that she could only assume was the door locking. "This is about the visions, isn't it?"

"Indeed. You had already been informed that the cause of the pain is an imbalance in the neurotransmitters." He steepled his fingers together, looking very solemn.

"Right." She glanced from him to Alex, wondering where he was going with this. "That was covered, and unless a solution is found, I'm going to die. Probably in lots of pain."

"There is a possibility." Alex spoke, his words calm and slow, like a slow cascade of chocolate. "Unfortunately, it is something a bit extreme."

"Clarify 'extreme' for me." She settled onto one of the chairs, feeling more nervous than she wanted to reveal.

"It is our theory that we could build a device to regulate and adjust the rate at which your brain reabsorbs the neurotransmitters. The precise details… mmmm." Dr. Teirell frowned, and glanced at Alex. "Perhaps you'd prefer the general explanation instead of the technical one?"

"For now, short would be acceptable. What is this idea, and how much will I not like it?" Cordelia demanded, certain there would be some sort of catch. There was always a catch.

"The device would be small, similar in size to the last joint of one of your fingers. As I mentioned, it would monitor and adjust, by electromagnetic pulses, the reabsorption of the neurotransmitters. It would need to be implanted under the skull, next to the frontal lobe, near the area that the visions seem to originate." He watched her, dark eyes unblinking and unreadable.

"You want to open up my head and stick something inside my skull." Cordelia repeated, a knot of coldness inside her stomach. "Something that probably hasn't been tested."

"There have been similar conditions. Imbalances of the transmitting chemicals, sudden floods of the same chemicals after seizures… We have successfully treated those before, with devices of this sort." Dr. Teirell paused, and glanced for a moment at the stars before looking at her again. "I know that the technology works, on Thermians. We can think of no reason why it shouldn't also work on humans, and my associate suggested that a comparison with the transmitter levels from Lt. Madison and the Handmaiden might be useful to estimate a baseline."

"The idea is to save your life, Cordelia." Alex spoke gently, his eyes sorrowful. "I might not be anywhere near the medical expert of Dr. Teirell, but that is one goal that we both have in this situation – to get as many of the people here as possible out of this alive and healthy. None of us want to see these visions kill you."

Part of her wanted to object, to sneer that Teirell knew nothing about the way human bodies worked, and that Alex wasn't even a real doctor, just an actor. Another part wanted to curl up somewhere and hope that this wasn't true, that the visions weren't really there, that the pain wasn't getting worse and taking longer to fade. But she wasn't a frightened child, and she wasn't the spoiled Queen C from Sunnydale anymore. She didn't have to like what they were saying, but she should at least face the truth. "I don't like this. I don't like that they're going to kill me if something can't be figured out, and I'm a bit scared of the idea of brain surgery."

Alex nodded, "Entirely understandable. We didn't like some of the findings either. The question is not 'does the news make you happy,' the question is do you want the medical staff to prepare one of these devices to try to help you as best we… they can."

Sitting there, Cordelia considered his words. He was right, the question wasn't how happy the idea was, it was a matter of would she do this or not. They wanted to help her, and they had something that might solve the problem, which was more than anyone else had been able to offer. Willow had been trying, and that horrible stuff did help manage the pain, but there had to be more to life than managing the pain. She couldn't explain it to a normal doctor on earth, because then she'd need to explain about the visions, and they'd probably just declare her crazy. Magic hadn't gotten them anywhere. "I don't really have any other options. I can try this and hope it works, or I can keep on like this, and eventually die. These visions hurt, and dying is to be avoided, so start fixing up this device. I want my life back, without the blinding migraines."

"It will be done, your Highness." Dr. Teirell was smiling as he stood up. "With a bit of luck, this can be managed without the rest of the crew discovering that there is any difficulty. Without shattering their illusions of the crew of the Protector, the wisdom of the Princess Mirabanna, or the power of your handmaiden. As grave as the situation is, hope is very important."

"I hear you," Cordelia nodded. "We could all use a bit of hope when things look scary."

"I will go now to begin work on the device. Later, we will need you to come to the medical area so that we can get a few more precise measurements and scans of your head, both for the physical alignment and measurements and for the chemical balances." Pausing, Dr. Teirell looked as if he was performing a few mental calculations. "It should be between six and twelve hours before we are ready for those scans, feel free to try to rest and regain your strength."

As they left, Cordelia felt a bit more hopeful about the future. She didn't want to think too much on the reasons for it, or let herself wonder how much experience the Thermian doctor might have had. He was the best chance she had, and as he'd said himself, sometimes hope was a fragile thing.

End part 37.

The shuttle trip down to Earth had been tense, filled with nervous fidgeting as everyone contemplated what awaited them. Rebellious Thermians, at least one Dominionite, and vampires. Jason shivered, the very idea of vampires setting him on edge. None of this should be real, and a part of him wished that he still lived in blissful ignorance of it all. "What sort of thing can we expect? Angel, you're the expert on vampires…"

"We know they're in the tunnels." Angel glanced slowly around the shuttle, momentarily locking eyes with each member of the landing party. "Vampires are stronger and faster than humans. Stronger than Thermians, though they shouldn't be faster, assuming that the skills of the Security Consultant are typical for Thermian security guards."

Several of them made nervous chuckles, a few with slightly whistling or clicking undertones.

"Your blasters should be effective, though you might want to use a stronger setting than you would against Thermians. If a vampire is killed, they turn to dust, so any of them that are unmoving might move at any point to try to attack from behind. There will be no honorable surrender, even if they claim that they want to surrender. If they're typical minions, they probably won't try, some of them are pretty stupid. They'll expect you to be blind in the darkness, and will probably try to attack from behind." For a moment, Angel looked like he wanted to say something else, but he simply shrugged a little and fell silent.

The shuttle landed in a park, and after a few moments, Angel led them to a sewer access. Moving the manhole cover, he called out, "There's a ladder, but you might want your lights. I know where we are and where the Protector's scanners showed the engine, but I don't know where their soldiers are, or if they've left any traps."

Jason shivered again as Angel just stepped into the manhole, dropping down with apparent unconcern for the distance, the darkness, or whatever could be lurking down there. "Alligators, giant rats, vampires… This is going to be a nightmare."

There weren't any alligators, though he did see an assortment of rats as they followed Angel through the long tunnels. They'd thought to bring lights, and there were walkways along the sides, preventing them from having to wade in the… sludge oozing along in the middle. The smell was horrible, and the walls were dotted with assorted patches of fungus. It was enough to make Jason look forward to the fight, simply so he wouldn't have so much time to think about what was actually down here.

"It's almost like another transportation system down here. Canals with…" One of the Thermians was speaking, and he paused, glancing at the sludge. "There might be some water in that."

"Their ship is just ahead a little bit, and one corner." Angel's voice betrayed anticipation. "That's probably where their minions will be waiting, and we'll need to fight them. Hopefully, someone has a plan for what happens after we kill the minions?"

They started to move faster, a wary jog that took them through the dry corridor. Angel had somehow ended up in the front, and the Thermians had formed a sort of teardrop shape behind, with Jason in the center. "Out first priority should be capturing the leaders. Then we can find out what their plan is and take measures to prevent them from achieving it."

The tunnel opened up into a large cavern. They could see several other tunnels leading in various directions, and a group of machines were set up a short distance from the scratched and slightly bent shape of a smaller spacecraft. A glowing hologram of the star system floated over the machinery, and there was a dark stone shape leaning against one of the machines.

"What's wrong with this picture?" Jason looked around the cavern, wondering where the bad guys were. "Where are they?"

That was the moment when figures attacked them from behind. Jason wasn't certain how many there were, but he knew that it was a lot more than six. He didn't have long to be nervous before he was desperately fighting for his life. These vampires were a lot stronger than he was, and faster. Snarling faces with fangs and yellow eyes, fists hitting like sledgehammers… He was certain that his ribs had cracked at that punch. The next one sent him flying back into a wall, and pain flared along his shoulders, radiating along bones and nerves.

Groaning, he staggered back to his feet, wondering how he was still alive. Even as the question crossed his mind, a vampire charged at him, teeth exposed in a vicious snarl.

Light flared as blasters were fired at the vampire.

He felt an odd prickling sensation, and every hair on his body stood on end. In the moment between heartbeats, he saw the energy crackling around him, almost but not touching his skin. The vampire glowed for a moment before crumbling to ash, leaving an afterimage. Crackles bled off from him, going to the floor and the wall.

Utterly confused, all he could whisper was, "What just happened?"

End part 38.

Angel was certain that he was enjoying himself far too much. A tough fight against enemies that he could kill, with the certainty that the people fighting alongside him wouldn't panic and look at him distrustfully… It was a good feeling. Simple violence – possibly not the best solution for problems, but it was a great form of stress relief.

One of the minions had been trying to use a blaster, and there had been this uncomfortable feeling of heat and pins as the beam had hit him in the chest, but other than a numb sensation and what had looked like a flare of golden sparkles that had nearly blinded him, nothing had happened. He wasn't disintegrated, or collapsed, or twitching in pain. Maybe those efforts of Willow's were paying off, or maybe the weapons didn't work as well against vampires.

Jason had been flung into a wall, but he was still there, still moving. Some of the Thermians had bruises forming, or scratches, and one of them was looking decidedly green, but Angel wasn't certain if that was nausea or his shape slipping.

There were several noises from the ship, some crashes and a few odd humming sounds, but it had clearly crashed. Angel didn't think it looked like it would fly, though he'd be among the first to admit that he could be wrong. He was certain that those deep gouges, exposing the darkness inside the ship were certainly not vacuum-tight.

"Destroy the attackers!" The voice sounded odd, deep and weirdly resonant, with faint clicks accompanying the words.

More minions attacked, charging ahead of an inhuman figure. The man was tall, with broad shoulders, his green body covered with chitinous armor, antennae writhing on his head as he glared at the brawling figures.

That could only be the Dominionite. He looked big, and tough, and hostile. Angel could feel his face changing, and he growled, "I've never liked bugs."

Evading the minions wasn't that hard as he charged the bug-man. Angel was confident that the security guys could handle the minions, they'd been doing a good job of it so far. But he wanted to squish that bug, and he couldn't do that unless he got close enough. "Come down here and fight like a warrior!"

Apparently, the bug wasn't quite as evil over lord-ish as he looked, because he tried twice to shoot Angel before actually leaping down to fight. The blasts left small pits in the floor, but Angel was moving fast enough that they missed him.

Angel punched the bug man, the impact actually hurting as knuckles connected to the armored chitin.

"Puny, soft human," the taunt held a hint of wheeze, as if the blow was felt more than the Dominionite wanted to admit.

"I'm not so human, or so puny," Angel growled as he struck again. He didn't aim for the stomach this time, certain that the armor would probably protect the Dominionite far better than Kevlar. Instead, he struck at the elbow, knowing that it would hurt him almost as much, but hoping that he could damage the joint enough to impair the arm.

As the counter blow hit his stomach, Angel felt the air leaving his body. The bug was strong, and he hit hard. Much harder than the minions could manage. It was a good thing that he wasn't depending on that air to be able to keep fighting. Grabbing at the wrist to prevent himself from falling, Angel managed to hurl his opponent to the ground, grinning at the cracking sounds. Maybe there was more than one way to crack this guy's shell after all.

He ignored the rattling sounds from the ship, concentrating on the fight. The bug was stronger than he was used to, probably as strong or stronger than Angel, but he wasn't very nimble. Each blow that landed hurt, but each one only made him more determined to see the insect broken and dying at his feet. He was almost certain the urge came from his demon, but he saw no reason to fight it. Guys like this generally weren't that talkative anyhow.

There was a clacking noise as the Dominionite tackled him, and Angel grunted as he was slammed against the floor of the cavern. Pain flared from the back of his head, and he could smell his own blood. Growling, Angel could feel his face change as he reached up, one hand seizing a waving antennae. Gripping it, he yanked, and there was a tearing sound bare moments before the Dominionite keened, a distinctly pained sound.

They were rolling now, the Dominionite trying to bash Angel's skull against the stone floor. Angel hammered at the elbows, hoping to break the painful chokehold. It wasn't that he needed the air, but it hurt. He ripped away another antennae, and this time the pain was apparently intense enough that the Dominionite's grip loosened. Angel kicked, sending the alien staggering back, a trickle of something that smelled very unblood-like leaking from the top of his head.

Metal screamed against metal, and both Angel and the Dominionite winced in pain. It came again, and they staggered apart. Angel's hands went to his ears, futilely trying to keep out the sound. The Dominionite made some clicking noises that had to be curses in his native language, and lunged at Angel again.

The Thermian security guys were doing a wonderful job fighting against the vampire minions. Blaster fire illuminated the cavern in momentary flashes, almost like lightning. Jason was over there, crouched beside one of the Thermians, trying to cover each other's backs.

The stabbing pain as he connected to the ground yet again was becoming unfortunately familiar. Angel felt himself snarl, head ringing too much to hear the sound, and grabbed at the Dominionite's head. He forced his thumb into the eye socket, crushing the multifaceted orb.

That squeal of pain was all too clearly audible.

There was another metallic groan from the hulk of the ship, and something pinged, and a pair of big doors opened on the side.

"NO! They've got a shuttle operating in there!" Jason's bellow was frantic.

Angel had a moment where the sinking feeling of disappointment fought with a rising anger and frustration. Had they come so far, fought so hard, only to have the bad guys escape? He twisted at the Dominionite's head even as the alien slammed him against the floor again, his vision going dark. He felt like his arms were falling, with a heavy weight, and something knobbly and thin brushed against his temple, something damp spattered against his skin as awareness faded away.

They had failed.

End part 39.

Willow had placed herself into a light trance as she held the shield over the bits of everybody on the shuttle. She'd worked magics over bits of people before, and she'd held shields for several people for several hours before. But this was different. She'd never tried to hold so many shields fro so long with only the bits instead of proximity. For things like this, it wasn't quite the same. If she'd been trying to defend them against mind control, or ensorcellment, it would have been just fine. But she was trying to protect them against fists and blaster fire.

In her trance, Willow could feel the shields being tested. The prickling of blaster fire made her skin quiver, and she could feel the protests as there were more physical attacks. She grit her teeth against he pain, knowing that this was nothing compared to what they'd feel without the protections. It wasn't real injuries to her, there would be no burns or bruises later. She tried not to think how simple it would be to drop the protections – the pain would stop for her, but they could all be killed down there.

She could do this. It was a matter of persistence and willpower. A question of resolve. Resolve was something that Willow knew all about. This time, the resolve wasn't being directed outwards, against someone else's will, but inwards, against pain and the gradual loss of energy from maintaining the spells.

She could feel a Thermian aura, not quite close enough for her to reach him. There was something vaguely familiar, and she murmured, "Malthesar?"

"Is the bowl supposed to be glowing?" He sounded fascinated and faintly disturbed, peering at the bowl with the locks of hair.

"Yes. I'm trying to help the landing party, in case the pirates have blasters." She blinked, focusing on the physical world, enough that she could see Malthesar as a pale skinned human-looking man instead of a low swirl of colors. "This will work as a defense for them."

"But how?" The question might not have even been spoken, it could have just been a very strong thought.

"Magic. Manipulating the power that flows through all living things. In us and through us, making us luminous beings, not simply these shells of crude matter… It's everywhere." Willow smiled, remembering when she'd watched Master Yoda explaining the Force to Luke. She'd watched it over and over, hoping that the Jedi sections of the movies could help her learn to control her budding magic. She'd forgotten to listen to one of the key points – fear leads to anger, which leads to suffering, which was of the dark side. Okay, she wasn't getting the quote exactly right, but close enough. She'd missed that in Sunnydale, fallen astray, wandered where she shouldn't… "It's complicated. Don't worry too much about it."

"This is what makes you the Handmaiden." His words were uncertain, and his aura showed that confusion far more than his face.

"Yes…" For a moment, Willow lost track of time and Malthesar, feeling the pain flare thought her body. Someone was getting hammered, and she could feel it, pain radiating though her back, her shoulders, from the base of her skull. It made her arms tingle and her fingers went numb.

He felt worried. Malthesar was worried, that was the first thing Willow re-noticed. "Sorry, they're just running into some problems down on Earth. I don't know what's happening in specific, but they're in a big mess."

"Then do what you can to keep them safe, Handmaiden Willow." Malthesar's voice betrayed his worry.

Slowly, Malthesar made his way towards one of the lifts. Things were getting much stranger than he'd anticipated, even remembering the events from the last time they'd sought help from the people of Earth. He didn't know if things would keep getting stranger, and while it could have been disaster, he was fairly certain that things would have been much simpler if Willow and Mirabanna had been as much a lie as Commander Taggert had been.

He nodded towards the navigator and the junior science officer as he stepped onto the bridge. "Carry on, monitor the whole system for activity. Let me know if there is anything to report."

"Sir?" The science officer spoke, stepping a little closer. "Security reports a shuttle requesting an emergency docking. They claim to have injured, and a request has been made for medical and technical assistance. There is also indications that a shuttle has launched from the pirate's ship. We are awaiting further information on both matters."

His stomach suddenly felt very cold as he listened to those words. What had the Princess said? A shuttle with invaders, and another Thermian in a command uniform, blasting him? A shudder went though him, and he could feel his body rippling. "I will be in the antechamber. Do not disturb me unless it is important."

Malthesar could feel the fear surging like tides inside him as he entered the room. This was the place from her vision. This was the place where he might die, move on to the afterlife. In a moment of dark doubt, Malthesar wondered if the afterlife was as much a lie as the adventures of Commander Taggert of the Protector. If things went badly, he would be learning the truth very soon.

Odd how reluctant he was to learn that particular truth.

End part 40.


	15. parts 41 to 43

Jason Nesmith groaned, his back and shoulders aching. His ribs hurt, and every breath sent a stab of pain through him. He was still alive; they were all still alive. "Who put in the request for a miracle? Because whoever did it deserves a raise."

"Commander, we were unable to prevent them from launching a shuttle. It seems that some of the pirates have escaped." One of the security guys offered, trying not to put any weight on his right leg.

"Did anybody die?" Jason asked, suddenly feeling a great deal less happy with the outcome.

"Mr. Angel isn't moving or responding to any questions." This security man had purple bruising that had forced one eye closed, and a thin burn over his shoulder. "Though he did say that a slain vampire became dust. It appears that he was badly injured taking out the Dominionite."

"The Dominionite's dead? Are you absolutely certain?" Jason touched his ribs, gasping at the sudden pain. "Those bugs are pretty tough."

"Commander, he… umm… Mr. Angel fought Na'triss, and he's umm…. Still holding the head. Separate from the body." The Thermian looked considerably paler than normal.

"I think we all need to go back to the shuttle and then back to the Protector. I don't know enough about vampire physiology to be able to make a good estimation on Mr. Angel, but the rest of the injuries will wait until we can return." The doctor spoke, pulling some sort of device and holding it near the closest injured Thermian. "We have quite a few injuries."

"If he's not responding, I guess we need to carry him back with us. Nobody gets left behind." Jason tried to make his voice carry, like he would on set, but his head was spinning. He was certain that he'd read about beloved commanding officers insisting on not leaving their people behind. It also sounded like a very Taggert-like thing to say.

"Of course, sir." The doctor pointed the device at him, making an unhappy noise at the results. "We'll need to set those ribs when we get back to the ship, I have no way to secure them here."

A pair of the least injured security guards gathered up Angel, one holding his shoulders and the other his ankles. Slowly, the landing party moved back out of the large cavern. Everybody had some degree of injury, and they weren't moving very quickly. An air of depression had started to set in at the escape of the shuttle. Something needed to be done.

Wincing at the way each step jarred his ribs, Jason turned to face his men. "Hey, does anybody remember where we parked?"

For a moment, there was tense silence. Then, one of the men hesitantly chuckled, before asking, "That was a joke? Something to relieve the tension of the situation?"

"Yeah, mostly," Jason's attempt to smile became a wince as his ribs throbbed. "Down that tunnel a long ways, and up the manhole. I just hope we remember which manhole we need to go up and through."

"It should be simple enough," one of them murmured. He was limping, and there was a small scorch mark across his temple. "It should be the only one open."

"There must be road maintenance personnel, there is a chance that someone could have closed the tunnel access." This security man's eye was swollen shut, a dark bruise spreading over the side of his face. "We should have a plan if that has happened."

"Well, the good thing is that since we just fought the dangerous guys hiding in the sewers, we shouldn't have any more problems like that." Jason muttered.

There was an angry growl from a side tunnel, and a trio of vampires attacked. The first tackled a limping security guard to the ground, lunging for the throat. The second hit Angel, dropping not only himself and Angel but also the pair of guards carrying him to the squishing floor of the tunnel. The third went for the doctor.

The first thing that went through Jason's mind was blind panic. The second was the outraged "Haven't we put up with enough already today?"

With an annoyed squeal that no human could ever have reproduced, the doctor moved in what looked like a backhanded strike. However, as his arm moved, it became longer and took on a rather orange cast. The orange tentacle gripped around the vampire's head and flung him upwards, effectively bouncing him off the ceiling. The vampire didn't even have time to land before one of the security guards shot him with a blaster.

The one that had tackled a guard to the tunnel floor was first kicked up and away, howling with pain. The first shot caught his leg as he was staggering to his feet, and he fell down again. His pain was short-lived as he was caught in two blasts and glowed for a moment before falling as nothing more than gritty dust along the tunnel.

The vampire that had tackled Angel and the pair of Thermians carrying him was the toughest to deal with, not because of any particular competency, but because they had somehow all become entangled. In fact, it looked to Jason as if the vampire was now trying to escape while the two security guards were trying to grab him, their collective efforts hampered by their sprawled entanglement. Eventually, that vampire was also dispatched, and they picked Angel back up.

Jason shook his head, deciding not to tempt fate any further. "Let's just try to get back to the shuttle now."

With an assortment of 'sir's and 'aye, Commander's, they started moving once again. The tunnel wasn't any more enjoyable this time through, though they had no further interruptions. It felt like a very long walk before they could see light spilling down from an open manhole.

"Can one of you guys make sure this is our exit?" Jason asked, pointing to the ladder with his thumb. His ribs still hurt beyond anything he had words for, and he wondered exactly how they were going to manage to get everybody up the ladder, especially Angel, who was doing a really good impersonation of a corpse right now.

"I think, with the Commander's permission, we may need to shift to get everybody safely up to the surface." The doctor spoke softly, as if the idea was not only unconventional but also deeply embarrassing.

The first guard moved easily up the ladder, calling down, "I see our shuttle, Commander. This is definitely the correct exit from the undercity."

"Good. Everybody out, in whatever shape works best. Just try not to scare the natives between the cover and the shuttle." Jason replied, glad that this was almost over. They'd go back to the Protector, get patched up, and he could take a double Aspirin and fall down for a while.

By the time everybody was out of the tunnels, he was certain that there had been definite tentacles. Jason thought about it for a few moments before deciding that first, he'd told them it would be okay, and secondly he didn't want to think about it. They were out of the sewers, time to go up and get some pain-killers.

"Let's go up and get ourselves put back together." He collapsed onto the seat, aching all over and blankly wondering why things felt like they'd gotten off lightly.

End part 41.

Guy Fleegman wiped his palm along the side of his pants, trying to look calm. Okay, calmer than he really was. He was trying to be Guy Ingersoll, Chief of Security for the starship Protector, not Guy Fleegman, actor. The security people here believed in him, and he didn't want to disappoint them. Not only that, but he really didn't want things to go wrong enough to get people killed.

"Guy? We've just got a request for docking permission from a shuttlecraft." Gwen's voice emerged from one of the speakers. "However, it's not one of ours, and according to the computer, we're on the only ship authorized in this section of space."

"So, where did this shuttle come from?" He checked his little Thermian palm-pilot, which informed him that three of his boys in security were already on their way to the shuttle bay. "Are we letting them inside?"

"There's apparently a built-in protocol that allows access for unidentified ships and shuttles that claim to have a medical emergency." It sounded like she was annoyed, though that could have been the speaker. Permission to dock has been granted due to that."

"You don't believe them?" Guy glanced at the walls, which suddenly seemed very thin and fragile.

"We did a computer scan, and the engine of the ship the pirates escaped on is underground just outside the LA corporation limits. Presumably most of the rest of the ship is there as well. I'd say that they're probably not friendly." There was a pause. "Can you tell your guys to be careful?"

"I already did that. We've spent a few hours going over dirty tricks and how to see through them." He shook his head in dismay. He'd had a few hours to try to prepare his boys to go up against professional bad guys. The idea was ridiculous.

There was only silence from Gwen.

"I know, that's what I thought." He didn't know if she was still listening or not.

"Chief?" The slightly hesitant voice was one of his security boys. "We need a cell ready for two prisoners. And Kersithon needs to go to the medlab."

"Of course." He hooked the palm-pilot into the nearest computer port, and requested that it show his security boys. Touching the nearest four that weren't already in the shuttle bay, he used the on-ship intercoms to relay, "We have two prisoners who need to be thrown into the brig, actual throwing optional. Someone needs to help Kersithon to the medlab as well, I don't want them to have the chance of using anything long term and lingering."

"Sir?" The voice of the other security guard in the shuttle bay came again. "What do we do with this green computer disk that they had with them?"

"Keep track of it and don't put it into any of the normal computer consoles. They may have had some sort of electronic attack for the computer systems." Guy felt a moment of light headedness at the thought of a computer virus on the only thing keeping them from a painful death in space. "Have someone from tech support look at it right away."

"You were right, they faked injuries in order to gain entry to the ship. They bashed Kersithon over the head when he went to figure out how badly they were injured." The voice held a mixture of dismay and awe. "If you hadn't warned us…"

Guy grinned, feeling much better all of a sudden. "If you hadn't remembered and been smart enough to be careful and not panic, they still could have. I'm lucky to have such a good crew to work with."

Now he just hoped things would go as well for the landing party.

End part 42.

Alex Dane stared at the two sets of readings. They would probably make a great deal more sense to him if he was the doctor that most of the ship believed him to be, but as he wasn't, Willow and Gwen's neurological readings were still rather puzzling to him. "There is some variation here and here. It might be that certain neurotransmitters enable the Handmaiden to perform her quantum manipulations."

"Will this influence our efforts to assist the Princess Mirabanna?" One of the nurses asked, frowning a little.

Looking back at the printouts, Alex shook his head. "The neurotransmitters that seem to be connected to the quantum manipulations aren't the same as the ones causing the Princess her difficulties."

"Can we establish a safe range?"

"I believe so." He pulled out the stack from the analysis of Cordelia's vision and the after-effects. With a neon green highlighter, he marked the names of the neurotransmitters that had gone haywire in Cordelia's brain, and hoped that he wouldn't have to try to pronounce them. "Looking at the analysis from earlier, it seems that she was not experiencing problems until the levels of free transmitters reached a certain point. If we simply arrange for a rapid recollection if they have a sudden spike…"

"Of course." Dr. Teirell nodded, and held out his hand. "If you'll allow me to program the appropriate neurotransmitters into the adjustment device?"

No sooner had Alex passed the analysis of Cordelia's visions to Dr. Teirell than the medlab intercom chirped. Arching one eyebrow, he stepped to it and pressed the button. "Medlab."

"Yeah, one of my boys in security got bashed in the head by our would-be boarders." Guy's voice held both worry and pride. "They caught on to the attempt, and took both of them into custody, but there's still an injury. Ker's on his way down to the medlabs right now. You might want to be ready for injuries on the landing party as well."

"Naturally, what would things come to if there was an uneventful landing party," Alex murmured. "I'll see to it that preparations are made."

He turned around, catching the attention of one of the nurses who wasn't assisting with the little device for Cordelia. With a slight clearing of his throat that seemed like some sort of pre-speech punctuation, he spoke. "There was a member of security injured when some of the pirates sent a shuttle to attempt to infiltrate. Chief Ingersoll didn't give me many details, but it sounds like there is a head injury, possibly among other minor matters."

"Of course, we'll begin preparations. I assume the injured crewmember is on his way here?" The nurse's question sounded mild, but there was an implication that if he wasn't, there had better be a very good reason why not.

"Indeed he is. Ingersoll also reminded me of a very good point – we should be prepared for injuries among the landing party." Alex was pleased to note that his voice had remained level and calm. Hopefully, he would be able to maintain at least the pretense of calm when injured people started to arrive.


	16. parts 44 to 46

"Sir?" The voice of one of the bridge crew interrupted Malthesar's ponderings of life, death, and he after-life. "The sensors are picking up a shuttle. We're uncertain if it's ours."

"What direction is it heading, and how many of what sort of life forms are aboard?" Malthesar rose from his chair, trying to push back his personal concerns and focus on the now. "Do the registration codes match any of the Protector's shuttles?"

"Sir, our scanners detect two Thermians on board, and it does not belong with the Protector. The computer is still attempting to match the codes to a ship." A lieutenant reported, with a crisp salute that didn't quite hide the fear in his eyes. "What are your orders?"

"Where is our shuttle? The one with our crewmembers?" Malthesar almost wished he didn't have to ask, that he didn't need to know.

"Still on the planet's surface."

"We shall wait for our crewmembers to return, or for their communication to let us know they have encountered difficulties. I will not leave so many of our crew behind on a planet with limited space flight and vast political divisions. They would be in great danger." Malthesar followed the lieutenant out of his office, and looked over the bridge.

"We are not following the shuttle?" The pilot tried to get a little more information.

"I will not leave our crew behind in what might be a trap. The shuttle is not capable of going very far, and I want the ship's sensors to track it. We will not leave our crew and shuttle abandoned here, especially not since the pirates routinely gather large numbers of violent individuals to fight for them." He hoped that this was the right decision. "Determine how many life forms are on the fleeing shuttle, we will need it for our report."

"Sensors indicate that the shuttle contains two Thermians and an assortment of weapons."

"Our initial report indicated four Thermians and a Dominionite. If only two are on the shuttle, that leaves the other three pirates unaccounted for." Malthesar looked at the screen, showing the blue and green planet below, with clouds swirling over. "Try to signal the pilot of our landing shuttle."

Malthesar and everybody else on the bridge waited in quiet tension as the communications officer tried to contact the landing shuttle. After a few moments and several beeps and whistles, he looked up. "There is no response from within the shuttle, although it appears that the shuttle is undamaged. Most likely, the entire landing party is outside the shuttle. I will attempt to contact the pilot directly."

"Do so," Malthesar spoke firmly, hoping that his worry would be undetected.

"Pilot Teilathar, do you hear me? Please report on your condition." The words were tense, not hiding the worry in the young officer.

:Pilot Teilathar, reporting to the Protector.: The words were a little breathier than normal, and there was some tension. :We are returning to the shuttle, and will be returning to the ship as soon as everyone is properly aboard. There are injuries, I repeat, there are injuries. Our medical officer says that there are multiple blunt traumas and several fractures, as well as Mr. Angel. As soon as we have returned, it is his suggestion that we all report immediately to the medical facilities for more extensive treatment.:

"I will relay your report to the medlab. They will be ready to treat your injured by the time you arrive." The young Thermian gave a hesitant smile, and asked, "Is there anything else I can do, sir?"

"Keep monitoring the other shuttle, and inform me of any changes in course or attempted communications." Malthesar leaned back in his chair, thinking about all possible ways that this could still end in disaster. Had there been a particular reason why the pirates decided to come to this world? Did they have allies, perhaps allies with another ship?

End part 44.

Cordelia could feel the cold metal beneath her. At least she was still dressed, though her head felt like it had been inflated to about three times normal size and had a brass band shoved inside, each of them given a different musical score to play. She groaned, wanting to return to the painless dark of unconsciousness. The light was too bright, she could feel it stinging even with her eyes closed, and there was this horrible scorched stench that she couldn't place.

"Princess? Can you understand my words? Does anything besides your head hurt?" The half-familiar voice seemed distorted, like she was listening to something underwater.

She took a breath, the motion feeling as if her head was grating against a row of meat tenderizers, and a small whimper escaped from her lips. Keeping her eyes closed., Cordelia tried to determine if anything else hurt, or felt weird. She could feel something on her arm, not quite a pinch, but intrusive. Licking her dry lips, she tried to speak, her tongue feeling thick and heavy. "Arm… needle?"

"Yes, there's an intra-veinous needle in your arm. It was the simplest way to administer the medication, and to keep you hydrated during the procedure." That voice could only belong to Alex.

Cordelia considered that, and decided that she didn't want to ask if there had been any complications. Some things could remain mysteries, there were fewer nightmares that way. "Head feels too big. Noisy band inside… Where's Willow?"

"Willow was waiting in one of the shuttle bays, trying to give the landing party some more protection. They're on their way back to the Protector now." Alex spoke gently, as if he was aware of how much her head had to be hurting. "All of the people who went planet-side are returning alive, or close enough in Angel's case."

"Increased sensitivity to light and sound are normal side effects of the sedative. The effects will fade, and in the meantime, you will be taken to a darkened room for a period of rest." Dr. Teirell was speaking again, his voice quiet and calm. "The implantation went smoothly, but we want to give you a... what was the term again?"

"A post-operative check-up. They want you to wait here until they are not only certain you aren't having a bad reaction to the drugs but that the sedative has worn off. It would be best if you don't try to get up or walk around yet." Alex spoke again, his voice tinged with concern. "Can you wiggle your feet a little?"

Cordelia frowned, ignoring the thin memory of her mother's voice telling her not to frown because it caused wrinkles. Her feet were there, feeling rather like stiff blocks. She concentrated on them, and had the sensation of them waving from side to side, though when she tried to curl her toes, all she could feel was the prickling of sleepy feet. "Hands next?"

"Yes, if you can," Teirell's voice was a quiet murmur. "Then I'll need you to open your eyes so that we can check the reactions of your pupils."

Another noise, not quite a moan emerged, and Cordelia tried to move her hands. She imagined that she was grasping something, and her fingers seemed to drag over sandpaper. "Feels so rough… like sand."

"The movement is good." A hand rested on her shoulder, and then cool fingers touched her own hand. "There seems to be a measure of increased tactile sensitivity, most likely a temporary effect from the sedative."

Cordelia tried to swallow, and something small and cold touched her lips.

"Ice chips. You're probably feeling very thirsty right now," Alex spoke again, holding the ship of ice until she could manage to take it into her mouth. "It's probably best if you wait for a while before putting anything into your stomach, many sedatives leave people rather queasy."

"Our medical science is more advanced than that of Earth in some areas, there should be no visible scaring of your skin from this procedure." Dr. Teirell spoke again, his fingers moving to very lightly touch her temple. "It will take some time for the bone to finish healing, and there will be traces left for much longer, but that is normal."

"Too early to tell if it'll work, isn't it?" Cordelia's tongue still felt thick, and her words sounded slurred. "For the visions and the pain."

"I'm afraid so. Ideally, we will be able to stay in the sector for a while, enabling me to make certain that the implant is working correctly." His voice was gentle, and then he spoke, almost apologetic. "I need you to open your eyes now."

The light was harsh and much too bright, stabbing at her brain through the eye. The stabbing pain from the bright little flashlight was repeated with her other eye, and Cordelia closed them both, feeling hot tears well up in response to the light. There were green-purple spots on the inside of her eyelids, afterimages. "It's too bright."

"I'm sorry," The awkward words were an inept attempt at comfort, and then cool fingers touched against her temple again. "We're going to put you in a side room to rest for a while. Things will probably get very busy for a while, the landing party is returning and we'll need to treat their injuries."

Cordelia nodded, immediately regretting the movement. Her skull felt like it was grating over gravel, and her stomach churned. "Right, a dark room to rest. Landing party with injuries… Does this mean we won?"

"I think so. Something close enough for the moment, though I'll need a few more details to be sure." Alex patted her hand.

She made a sound, or tried to, showing her acceptance of the plan. Her eyelids just felt so heavy, and with the light so painfully bright, it wasn't worth the effort to keep them open. A few moments of disorientation while she was moved to another room, and then it was over, she was resting in the quiet dark.

Maybe she drowsed, or maybe she just wasn't entirely awake from the sedatives yet. It seemed like only a few moments before she could hear noises again. Just past the door, a multitude of beeps and clicks carried though the air. She could almost imagine the doctors and nurses scurrying around an assortment of injured people. She could almost see them, pale Thermians in their security uniforms, bruised, maybe with some scrapes and rips in their clothing.

"… set the arm, so that the cartilage…"

"The blasters, they shot at us and there was a golden haze around our skin. Like the shielding for the Protector."

"… ripped the head right off. It was amazing…"

"Give me some blood over here, type D, and an antibiotic. Ancestors only know what bacteria were under…"

"…bones have been cracked, and there may be spinal bruising…"

"My hair even hurts. Can't you give me something, just knock me out?" Jason's voice, exhausted and in pain.

Cordelia opened her eyes, seeing the room cast in shades of gray. Part of her wanted to rush out and make sure that Jason was mostly whole, that he would heal from whatever had happened. She didn't, partly because she doubted that her feet would cooperate, and partly because she knew that her efforts would only be in the way. The medical staff was there, they would help him.

"Cordelia? Are you awake?" Gwen's voice was soft, as if she was afraid of waking someone.

"Who could sleep with all that going on?" Cordelia could feel a half smile, and then sighed. "How bad are the injuries?"

"From the sounds of it, most of them have a lot of bruises, the equivalent of broken bones, and some scrapes. The doctors are worried about infections, and there are some mild burns from the blasters. It sounds like they had to fight against vampires," Gwen's voice was soft, disturbed by the idea.

"I thought that blasters did a lot more than just some burns." Cordelia turned to face the other woman, and gave a thin smile. "So, how are the guys we know?"

"Jason's ribs got hit pretty bad, they're almost certain that one of them was broken. He's got bruises all along his back, and a bump on the back of his head." Gwen sighed, and glanced back at the door. "Angel's hurt pretty bad. His throat is a big bruise, and his back got slammed into the ground repeatedly. They said his shoulder blades were cracked, maybe chipped, and there was some swelling. He just looks so pale, so…"

"Broken?" Cordelia offered, seeing the pained, worried confusion on Gwen's face. It was obvious to her that the blond cared for Angel, and had that horribly familiar helpless feeling that only came when someone that you cared for was hurt and you could do nothing to help.

"Broken," Gwen agreed. "How will they be able to help him?"

"Angel's a vampire, he'll be okay once he drinks enough blood." Cordelia tried to sound confident, as if she had no doubts that everything could be fixed.

"He's not even awake," Gwen whispered, looking back with eyes that screamed her worry.

Trying to reassure Gwen when she was not only worried but still a bit groggy, Cordelia pointed towards the IV. "They have way around that, you know. Angel will bounce back just fine."

"I hope so. I'm looking forward to going home." Gwen sighed, and moved away from Cordelia's bed. "You look like you could use some more rest."

With that, Gwen left the recovery room, leaving Cordelia alone with her thoughts and the sounds of medical attention in the outer room. Cordelia tried not to worry, reminding herself that they were the heroes; that things had to work out. It was almost enough.

End part 45.

Willow rolled her shoulders, trying to get rid of what felt a great deal like a kink in her muscles. She knew that it wouldn't work; the kink was more magical than physical. In the same way that holding her body in one position for too long would start to hurt, holding the protections for the landing party was starting to grow taut and painful, like a cramping magical muscle. She didn't know how much longer she could hold the protections, and hoped desperately that they were ready to come back.

At least the protections weren't being battered any more. If they were out of the fighting and danger, that must mean they were coming back, right? The flashes of pain from the attacks had hurt, wearing at her energy and endurance until she was about ready to scream, not that it would have helped anything if she had.

Lights began to flash along the wall, and Willow blinked at them in puzzlement. Muscles ached as she lurched up from the floor, and the bowl obligingly floated after her as she moved to the hallway. Either those flashing lights meant the shuttle was returning and the bay doors would need to open into the harshness of space, or there was about to be some big problem that she probably wouldn't want to be in the room for.

Willow stumbled, uncertain if there had been something there, or if she'd just tripped over her feet. Regardless, she landed against the wall of the corridor, blinking at the vague thought that that probably should have hurt. Turning around, she looked at the round window into the shuttle bay, watching at the outside doors opened up. The shuttle slipped inside like a lazy fish, settling daintily on the floor, though it was at an angle instead of the geometrically precise alignment that had been there before the trip to LA.

The rear doors closed, and the lights on the wall cycled, going from reds and oranges to soothing greens and blues. The side of the shuttle opened, and bruised security men started to emerge, stumbling and limping. She could feel the thin shells of her magic around them all.

They were back, and whatever they'd gone down to face was over. Willow closed her eyes, whispering a thanks to every power that she could think of as she let the protections wisp away. That magical tension eased, going from an ache of protest to a dull numbness. The bowl clattered against the floor, ringing as it danced in a circle before staying flat.

Squeaking, the door opened, and the first security guard blinked at her. For a moment, they just stood there, Willow swaying with magical exhaustion and the guard swaying with his bruises.

He bowed, fingertips touching each other and being brought to touch between his eyebrows as he murmured, "My thanks to you, Handmaiden, for casting your protection and blessing over us."

"I was glad to offer you my blessing, and I can only hope that what protections were mine to offer were of some assistance." For half a moment, Willow couldn't remember if this was something from the script of the episode, but the slightly scorched scent and another that made her think of an aquarium convinced her that this was real. "What you do can be dangerous, and I know some of the minions of your enemies."

"Your protections saved us," the solemn words came from another of the security guards, his face bruising and his arm held close to his body. "If not for your golden blessing, the blaster fire would surely have killed many of us."

"You were still injured," Willow spoke softly, looking at their injuries and feeling a flash of guilt. Could she have helped them more?

"We will go now to the medlabs, and our injuries will be tended. I am most concerned for Mr. Angel, who has not awakened since he defeated the Dominionite warrior."

"Tell Dr. Teirell and Dr. Lazarus that Angel just needs blood, but he will need a lot of it." Willow looked over the rest of them, seeing that every single person looked to be injured, even the two carrying Angel. "I am pleased that I could help such brave warriors, even if only a little bit."

"We are grateful, Handmaiden," the pilot's words had that particular extra-careful enunciation of someone trying not to slur their words in the depths of exhaustion. "We must go to the medlabs now, all of us."

Willow watched as they started down the hallway, a bit worried by their limping and the fact that she couldn't quite feel her feet. All of them had come back to the ship, that was good.

"So, your blessing was good, huh?" Jason's voice drawled, with the unfortunately familiar weakness of painful ribs. "Now what are you planning? A celebration? Some weird ritual of thanks?"

Snorting, Willow shook her head. "No, now I go to my room and sleep. Don't anybody wake me up unless the ship's being boarded, I'm exhausted."

"Used up all your mojo?" Jason was trying to dismiss the matter, but didn't quite succeed.

"You try holding magical shields over more than a dozen people from orbit and tell me how much energy you have left." Willow's retort was marred by a yawn at the end, and she shook her head.

Deciding that it wasn't worth an argument, she meandered down the hallway, somehow ending up in her room, and collapsing onto her bed. Images danced in her head, tunnels with rivers of something in a nasty green-brown, snarling vampires leaping from the shadows. Blaster fire danced over golden eggs, and a giant bug jumped at Angel. Angel and the bug wrestled on the ground, slamming each other downwards like something out of an old monster movie. Contemplating the stains on their clothing, her mind jumped to a few laundry detergent ads, and then one for an anti-persperant.

"Too weird… I don't need to add the commercials into this crazy adventure." Willow curled around a pillow, and closed her eyes.

Things would be better when she woke up. Injuries would be tended, Angel would be moving again, and she wouldn't ache so much. They could go back home. The galaxy's safety wouldn't be their problem anymore, just their little corner of it. All she'd need to worry about would be stage-fright, occasional demons and vampires, and making sure they found a solution to Angel's clause. Normal was what you made of it, she supposed.

End part 46.


	17. parts 47 to 49

Gwen closed the door to the room where Cordelia was resting, trying to believe her reassurances that everything would turn out right. Of course the Thermian medical staff would be capable, of course they could deal with the injures. She looked across the room, seeing the landing party, every single one of them burned, bruised, and cradling injured limbs, except for Angel, who wasn't moving at all. He didn't look burned, but she could see the bruises from here, around his neck and over his arms.

Cordelia had known him for years; surely she wouldn't be able to hide doubts about Angel's ability to recover? He just looked so still, and it bothered her. People shouldn't be that still, even unconscious there should be some movement.

Slowly, she edged around the doctors and nurses, hoping not to bump into any of them and thus disrupt a treatment. She didn't think there were really supposed to be this many patients at once, but gradually she realized that while everybody was injured, most of them weren't that severe. None of the medical staff seemed to be worried at all.

Finally, she was standing beside Angel, and she could see the bruises encircling his neck. His chest and the side of his face had been splattered with something dark green, and she looked around for something that she could use to clean it away. He wasn't breathing, there was no pulse on his bruised neck, and when she touched him, he felt cool. The whole situation gave her the creeps.

One of the nurses gave her a soft cloth and a small container of warm water, and she started to wipe the sticky green stuff away from his face. Knowing that he wouldn't answer, she still spoke the question, "What is this anyhow, and how did it get all over you?"

"That would be the blood of the Dominionite," One of the security guards spoke, looking away as a nurse did something to his burned arm. "Mr. Angel was fighting Na'triss, and the Dominionite was trying to pound him into the paving of the underground cavern. But he was determined, and in the end, despite all the punishment Na'triss could inflict, Mr. Angel was able to slay the Dominionite, removing the head completely from the rest of the body. It was rather impressive, and a bit messy."

"oh." She looked back at Angel, uncertain how to respond. She could still remember the face of the first Dominionite warlord, Sarrais, projected larger than life on one of the wall sized view-screens. He appeared in her nightmares regularly.

As she wiped over Angel's forehead, it felt almost like it rippled beneath the cloth, and when she pulled her hand back to dampen the cloth again, his face had shifted. While still bruised, he now had the vampire ridges over his brow, and she could see the tips of sharp fangs between his lips. There was a faint movement, as if he was taking a slow breath.

She remembered Cordelia's words, that Angel would be fine once he got enough blood into him. She also remembered Angel's words, about how he had to battle the demon inside of him, resisting the temptation to sink his teeth into living people and drink. She took a step back, her heart suddenly pounding, mouth sour with fear. "Nurse?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Madison?" the nurse spoke, half turned to face her.

"I think Mr. Angel is waking up. We need to get him some blood, right away." She could feel herself shaking. "If he starts to move before he's really awake and thinking clearly, this could get very ugly."

"Thermians are stronger than human, Lieutenant Madison. We should be able to restrain him if need be." A second nurse spoke, calmly stitching up a gouge along a security guard's arm.

"He's a vampire," she whispered, not looking away from Angel. "That changes the rules for him."

"Mr. Angel is stronger than a human. Stronger than most Thermians. I would rather not have to try to restrain him," the security guard spoke, glancing at Angel over his wounded arm. "If he can rip the head from a Dominionite, I think he could cause us great pain as well."

"The Princess said that he needs blood, and I'm starting to think that the sooner he gets it the safer we'll be," Gwen added.

A pair of nurses came over, one carrying several loops of thing tubing, and the other pulling a stand with a large bag of red fluid that could only be blood. They quickly set up an IV, and the blood started flowing through the tubing, heading towards Angel's arm. There were careful inspections of his bruises, and one very carefully looked at the sharp fangs, a few startled sounding clicks emerging from her throat.

Angel still wasn't moving, but somehow, he seemed to relax. Still nervous, she took a careful step towards him. If he was waking up, someone needed to keep an eye on him. She reached out, touching his hair, feeling a layer of… stuff encrusting the dark strands. Disturbed, she moved her hand to his cheek. Slowly, her fingers moved up to his brow, tracing over them until his features changed back to the more familiar human face.

"Please be okay. Please don't be a danger to the rest of us," she whispered.

End part 47.

"I'd really like to say that we did it," Jason muttered, frowning as the doctor shone a light into his eyes.

"Commander? I need you to remove your shirt. The scanner indicates that you've taken some damage to your ribs, they will need bandaging for support." The doctor stepped back, putting down the tiny flashlight.

Slowly, Jason started to remove his shirt. Every time one of his arms moved, or he took a deep breath, pain stabbed at him. "They managed to launch a shuttle. Someone got away from us, and I don't like it."

"Doctor… Something like that needs to be relayed to Malthesar. It could be very important." One of the wounded security men spoke, looking away as a pair of nurses did something to his arm.

"I'll establish a communications link, you can try to explain as I bandage your ribs," the doctor conceded.

Jason hissed as cold fingers touched his ribs, not at the center of pain, but still over tender flesh. "Oww! What are you doing?"

"Your ribs have been bruised, and I am attempting to determine if any of them have been cracked. They will need careful wrapping, which will need to remain in place for several days," pausing, the doctor gave him an amused look. "I assume that you will want this support to be under your clothing."

"What did your comment mean, Commander Taggert?" The question came from the same doctor that had repaired his knee.

"We went down and took out the flunkies. Their extra security and expendable labor has been expended. Angel killed the bug-man," Jason winced as his ribs were wrapped. "Unfortunately, they launched a shuttle."

The doctor just shook his head, muttering, "Never a simple mission with you, Commander Taggert. Thankfully, I will not be expected to deal with the shuttle."

"The shuttles can not go very far," spoke one of the security men. "Unless they have a ship waiting to meet them, they will suffer a slow death as the shuttle's resources give out."

"Ugh. Not a good way to go, stuck in space with your resources going. Would it be air? Or maybe heat?" Jason shook his head, trying not to picture people freezing in space, or suffocating as their air supply ran out. Maybe they could just get hit by an asteroid and go fairly fast.

"Commander Malthesar will be informed, of course," the doctor assured. "The greatest worry is that their shuttle will not run out of resources in the midst of space."

For a moment, Jason didn't understand the doctor's reasoning. Then, as he considered the other options, it dawned. "You think they might have allies, or find and take over a ship."

"Yes, and we can not know what happens unless we hear from them again or find the shuttle." The doctor finished wrapping his ribs, and gave him a small bottle of large orange pills. "Take one with a large glass of water, no less than six hours apart."

Jason nodded, pulling the jacket back over his shoulders. Glancing around the medlab, he shivered at the sight of Angel, a tube of blood flowing into his arm. Bruised Thermians were everywhere. "Right, I'm going to go back to my room and get a bit of rest, it's been a long, painful day."

Jason walked out of the infirmary, trying to remember which way to go for his room. He managed to get there eventually, after a few wrong turns. Collapsing onto his bed, Jason closed his eyes. Adventure was a lot more painful than just playing an adventurous starship Commander on television. He just hoped that they'd get home without any more problems.

As he tried to settle into sleep, his mind formed a picture of the shuttle, now against the backdrop of space instead of hurtling out of the ruined spaceship underneath LA. He imagined that it would look very much like the one that had carried him to Earth and then back to the Protector. Inside, there would be some of the Thermian pirates. Would they look human, or would they be all Thermian octopus-like? Had they left in a panicked bid for escape, or did they have allies that they planned to meet up with? Would they die in unforgiving space? It was so much like the teasers for next week's episode that he could almost hear the escaping pirates laughing.

End part 48.

Fred was currently in Texas, combining a family visit with some sort of science and technology convention that she'd wanted to attend. She wasn't expecting any problems, and had promised to call if anything drastically weird had arisen. He'd been away with Virginia, trying to relax on her boat. Some of her father's business dealing had surfaced, raising a few more problems, though thankfully none of them had involved any near-sacrifices on her part. He'd returned a little earlier than expected and found the Hyperion was completely empty.

He didn't like the situation. Not one little bit.

There had been a mug with dried bits of plant crusted to the bottom, much better than finding a mug with crusted blood over the bottom. Unfortunately, the dried bits had held enough of their scent that he could identify the potent pain-killer. Between that mug and the emptiness of the hotel, he had a few clues as to what had happened.

Presumably, Cordelia had experienced a vision, leaving her in enough pain that Willow had given her that potion. Considering what had been written about that potion, it was something that should be taken with caution, and caution wasn't something that Cordelia was known for. Willow could be quite impulsive about magical things as well, though she generally meant good by her actions.

Trying unsuccessfully to calm himself, Wesley pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket. If he could get into contact with someone, then he could ask them what the hell they thought they were doing. First, he dialed for Angel, hoping that the vampire might simply have been delayed by sunrise.

Angel's office started to ring.

Swearing, Wesley hung up. It wasn't that much of a surprise that Angel hadn't taken his phone, he regularly left it behind or forgot to charge the battery. Certain aspects of modern technology gave Angel more problems than others, and cell phones were one of those areas.

This wasn't an insurmountable problem. Cordelia would never forget her cell phone, though if she was working on a part, a call might go straight to voice-mail. He dialed Cordelia's phone, hoping to hear her voice.

Her phone didn't connect. He listened as it rang and rang, far beyond the point where it should have gone to voicemail. If the battery had died, he would have been directed to voicemail. Cordelia was generally very good about checking calls on the second line. The only possible explanations were that she was either on a call too important to switch out of – something that sounded rather unlikely – or her phone was somehow out of range.

Out of range would be a very bad thing. The whole of Los Angeles was in range, as was most of the state of California, though he supposed some of the tunnels and underground caverns used as lairs might be beyond the range of his phone's signal. Cordelia shouldn't have been far enough out to sea to loose the signal, and she hadn't planned any air-travel.

Even if the phone itself had been destroyed, his call should have gone to voicemail, not just rang into emptiness. His mind started to ponder all the ways that they'd lost cell phones in the past. His firs one had been smashed by a demon before he'd joined Angel Investigations. Cordelia had lost one of the prepaid phones to the slime from a pair of demons. Angel had smashed one. He'd had one get destroyed when a demon had attacked him, shredding his coat, leaving several slashes over his ribs, and destroying the cell phone. Willow had fried one with a spell that had a few unexpected side effects. Cordelia had lost one when the vampire that had tried to grab it from her had been dusted. Angel's second phone had been eaten by a snake-demon, almost taking Angel's hand with it. Cordelia had lost another one when her purse had fallen as she was being kidnapped, shattering after it fell twelve stories to the ground.

It was rather disturbing to hope that she'd been attacked by a vampire, which was by far the simplest way they'd lost cell phones in the past.

The phone rang, and Wesley ran to the desk, ignoring the fact that his leg slammed into the counter as he grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

:Wes. What's going on over there? I've been trying to call all day: Gunn's voice came across clearly.

"I truly wish I could tell you, but I'm not quite sure myself. I only got back from my trip with Virginia a few minutes ago. Angel is either sleeping like the dead or elsewhere, with his cell phone in the office. Cordelia had a part in a television series, I believe it was the one with that Nesmith fellow, and I assume that Willow was going with her." Welsey paused, looking once more at the cup. "I think she may have received one of those last minute notices about a problem, but there's nobody here, and no notes."

:Damn. I've been trying to get you or your books. There was something, some sort of giant rock monster. Rocky smashed a few cars, terrified a lot of people, and was taking a walk down the street. Bullets just bounced, the thing didn't even seem to notice. Some jerk in a SUV crashed into it, the thing just shook the wreckage off like a kid that stepped in trash. I'm hoping someone can figure out what it is and if it's coming back.:

"The SUV was wrapped around the rock-creature's foot? That's disturbing, just how large was this thing?" Wesley murmured, rubbing at his now aching leg.

:I didn't see it myself, but it sounds like it was three or maybe four stories tall. Good news, it didn't sound like it was actively attacking, just that it was trying to go somewhere, and didn't worry about things like puny humans in the way.: Gunn sounded like he was frowning. :I saw the craters left where it walked, and it does not inspire happy thoughts.:

"I'll start looking through the books, but the only thing that it sounds like that I can think of would either be a stone giant, a magical construct, or a very large earth elemental. Giants have a measure of intelligence, constructs do what the mage creating them wishes, and earth elementals… Some are conjured and controlled, some are conjured and not securely controlled, and some show up when magic uses do something terribly wrong." Wesley sighed, and looked at his notes. Rock-giant. 3-4 stories, crater footprints. Return? "I don't suppose that you've heard from anyone else since Thursday?"

:No. If I do, I'll tell them to give you a call.: Gunn's words were faintly dismayed, as if he was trying not to let his disappointment show.

"Of course. I'll start the research. Be careful if you do see it returning, or if you see anything else particularly odd. If you see anything, it could be a clue to help identify the rock creature, so you need to let me know." Wesley closed his eyes, trying not to show his own dismay. Stone giants and earth elementals were both very difficult to even hurt, let alone destroy, and a mage that could create such a massive construct would be very powerful.

:Does that include what looked like a space shuttle in one of the parks? One of my crew saw something early this morning, he swears it was a space shuttle. Then, a while later, there was something that roared out of the ocean, and a little after that, the shuttle in the park was gone. Think that might be connected: Dismay had changed to curiosity and hope.

"Maybe. At the very least, it is certainly something unusual enough that it will probably end up coming our way sooner or later," Wesley opened his eyes, looking at Cordelia's abandoned script. She had a part on some sort of space-fantasy series, and there is something that looks like a space ship. "Gunn? If you can, see if there's anything unusual going on at the sets for the Galaxy Quest television series."

:Not that I'm arguing with your books, but why do you want us to look into a television show: Gunn's question was followed by the sound of something crashing, and the fainter sound of somebody else swearing.

"It's probably nothing, in fact, I hope it's a wild goose chase," Wesley paused, looking once more at the mug and then the script. "But the last thing we knew about Cordelia, she was on her way to work on her latest bit part. She's been cast as some sort of alien princess for the Galaxy Quest series, and we haven't heard from her since. Put that together with a space shuttle in the park…"

:Considering our luck, it's probably connected. I'll see what we can find: Gunn promised, and then hung up the phone.

Wesley put the phone down, and started towards the library. If that had really been a space shuttle, his books would probably be useless. If Cordelia's lack of communication was connected to her part… Her acting almost always led to trouble. If she'd been kidnapped again, they had no resources to try to rescue her from aliens.

End part 49.


	18. parts 50 and 51

Cordelia stretched, wondering how long she'd been asleep. She certainly felt much better than she had earlier, when Gwen had come to visit, and the injured landing party had been treated. It no longer felt like she was resting her head on a giant meat tenderizer, and her clothing felt smooth again. Everything wasn't wonderful again, but her head only felt slightly fuzzy, instead of filled with the battle of the bands.

Carefully, she sat up, half expecting a flare of pain from her head, or the desperate urge to empty her stomach. Instead, she only felt a little stiff, as if she hadn't moved in a while, or hadn't had quite enough covers while sleeping. Hesitantly, she reached up, touching her temple, where the vision-pain was normally the most intense.

There was a bit of an ache, but much less than she had expected. Further self-inspection revealed a complete lack of bumps, lumps, or open wounds. She couldn't feel any stitches, and while she wasn't sure if she would feel anything or not, she didn't feel like anything lumpy had been jammed under her skull. Of course, if the doctors had done their job right, she wasn't supposed to feel anything.

"Ah, Princess. It is good to see that you've awakened," the same doctor who had asked her about the surgery was there, clutching a paper. "If you can, I would like to ask you a few questions to make certain there are no problems?"

"Could I get some water first?" Cordelia asked.

"Of course, of course." He turned away, doing something at the wall, returning with a glass of cool water.

Cordelia sighed, wondering what sort of questions he would be asking and how he'd know if the answers were right. They started out simple, with some simple visual tracking and a couple hearing tests, and then he looked at the paper again.

"Can you tell me your full name?" his voice was calm.

"Cordelia Josephine Chase. Not that anyone is supposed to know about the Josephine part," she tried to glare.

"The theme of Angel Investigations?"

"We help the hopeless," Cordelia said absently, thinking that it was such a relief that she was still in real clothing instead of one of those revealing, unflattering hospital gowns. "I came up with that, you know."

"Where did you once accuse Willow – the Handmaiden? – of getting her clothing?" Dr. Teirell was frowning at the page, as if the question didn't make sense to him.

"Sears." Cordelia swallowed, wondering what else Willow or maybe Angel had put on that page.

After a few more questions, some embarrassing and others obscure but harmless, Cordelia was permitted to leave, her ears still echoing with the doctor's pronouncement of 'apparently undamaged and recovering nicely.' Her health was one area where the word 'apparently' wasn't welcome; she'd much prefer 'completely' or 'amazingly recovered.'

She decided to find Willow. This whole thing had spiraled way beyond anything she'd expected, and it would be nice to talk to someone who could understand all of the factors. Willow was the best choice, even if she didn't understand how much Cordelia wanted to be an actress, she understood the whole monster-fighting and sudden discovery of aliens combined with relationship problems. While Gwen might understand some of the confusion, she really didn't know the other actress well enough to open up with all her issues.

A few elevator trips, some long metal hallways, and two wrong turns later, she tapped on Willow's door. "Willow? You can't still be asleep in there."

A few moments later, a muffled voice replied, "Yes, I could. I would be if not for someone thumping on my door."

Cordelia scowled, looking around until she found a button by the door. As soon as she pushed it, the door opened with the little whoosh and squeak. "I've had time to get my head operated on, closed up, and sleep off the drugs, and then get a post-op check-up after that. What's your excuse?"

"I held twelve personal force shields on people for five hours, and part of that time, I was in orbit above them. I was exhausted. You try it and then tell me how much of a morning person you feel like the next day," Willow looked every bit as exhausted as she claimed to be. Her hair was sticking up in funny directions, her ship-suit was wrinkled, her skin looked waxy, and Cordelia was certain that if she got a closer look, Willow's eyes would be bloodshot.

"You're exaggerating, right? I know you're a strong witch, but… " Cordelia asked, letting the door shut behind her as she moved into the room. "Tell me that you're exaggerating."

For a moment, Willow just looked at her. "Twelve people in the shuttle. Us in orbit, them going down to Earth. Five hours from when they got onto the shuttle and I cast, to when they got back."

Cordelia blinked, her mouth opening and closing without noise.

"Okay, I admit I did the voodoo-sympathetic magic thing and cast it on bits of their hair instead of just directly on them, but it was still a lot of work." Willow sighed. "I don't think I'll be able to do anything else magical for a week."

"I think you've more than met your magical quota for a while," Cordelia mused, thinking about what Willow had said. Maybe she should be more careful about her hairdresser, and the whole nail clippings thing? Suddenly so much less silly sounding.

Willow tensed, looking at Cordelia with a frown, "What do you mean, you had your head operated on?"

"I had a vision since we got here, and it left me in pretty bad shape. Their doctors looked at the information their little monitor disk picked up and they said that the visions were killing me. Slowly, and with excruciating pain," Cordelia clarified. "After some time and thought, they said they could make a little device, stick it in my head, and then I probably wouldn't die from them."

Willow arched one eyebrow, "Probably?"

"I'm not to thrilled with that word being in there either. But I can't go to a doctor on Earth, the human ones would think I'm hallucinating, and either give me drugs to try to stop it or lock me up. A demon doctor – if there is such a thing – might believe me, but I don't think I'd trust them. That pain-drink that you gave me blocked the pain, but it won't fix the cause, and I think taking it too often would kill me as much as anything else," Cordelia explained. "I don't want to die, Willow, and if this might help, and at least I'm sure they want to help, then I'm out of options. You couldn't find any spells to help, I can't get rid of the visions, and I don't want to die. I still haven't become a famous movie-star yet."

Willow tried to smile at that. "You're working on it. Your role as Mirabanna definitely got you some exposure, judging from all the fan-mail you've been getting. That'll help when you go on more auditions, and if they've managed to get rid of the migraine aspect of the visions, it will be a lot better."

"Yeah," Cordelia smiled. "But all of this is completely weird. I half expect to wake up and not have even gone for the part yet, that none of this will have really happened. No aliens, no brain surgery, and Jason won't be looking at me like a freak."

"Jason can be a bit self-absorbed at time," Willow commented, trying to comb her hair out with her fingers. "Either he'll get over it, or you can find someone else, someone more level-headed."

"What if I don't want someone else?" Cordelia asked, still trying to figure the answer out herself. She was sure that his reaction hurt, and that she didn't like the thought of their relationship ending this way. What she wasn't certain of was if she'd even wanted something long-term, or just a while longer.

"All we can do is figure out what you want, what answers you'll give when he asks some awkward questions. You know he'll have questions, considering." Willow paused, her eyes unfocusing. "Well, there are spells that… no. I'm not going to use magic to make him forget or to bend his will. That's bad stuff, and we have to fight badness all the time, it would be wrong for us to become the badness too, you know?"

Cordelia considered what Willow had said, taking the time to sort out the words and the meaning. Somehow, she wasn't surprised that there were spells to make people forget, or to bend their wills. It would be convenient to try to use them, but… How would she feel if someone tampered with her memories, or bent her will to what they wanted? "I guess it would be a bad idea."

End part 50.

Angel had been drowsing in the med-lab, allowing himself to heal from his injuries as the Thermian doctors had pumped him full of blood. He'd worried for a moment that using a needle might not work very well, that it would be a problem that he wasn't actually drinking the blood, but that worry had proven false. It had strengthened him; he had healed. A corner of his mind just wished that he'd actually been able to drink it, to savor the taste of human blood running over his tongue, down his throat.

Maybe he wasn't quite as full and content as he'd thought. Carefully, he sat up, still feeling the bruises along his shoulders and a knot on the back of his head. The light felt very bright, and the med-lab smelled different, full of chemical smells, lingering traces of pain and scorched flesh.

"Ah, Mr. Angel, you have finally awakened," one of the Thermian doctors was speaking to him, a smile on his face.

"Yes," Angel looked at his arm, pulling the needle out. "That was starting to get annoying."

"Hmmm. Are you certain that you've had enough blood introduced to your system?" The doctor seemed faintly nervous, causing Angel to think he'd been given warnings about vampires.

"Enough that I'm not going to attack anyone, yes," Angel offered, hoping to settle the doctor's nerves. "If there's more, I wouldn't mind… Maybe not by way of a needle though?"

"You would rather…" He shifted his weight, looking uneasy, "just drink it?"

Angel looked at the doctor for a few moments, part of him not wanting to disturb him any farther and part of him just wanting to get some blood right now. "That's what vampires do. When a person becomes a vampire, there are… changes to several instincts. Other instincts appear that weren't there before. Given a choice, a vampire would prefer to drink blood instead of having it put in by a tube."

"There should still be some left from our preparations." The doctor glanced at one of the other rooms before looking back at Angel. "Do you have a preference, or should… Would any of the human blood be sufficient?"

"Any human blood would be fine," Angel assured. "But I think I'd rather not try the Thermian, it might not be compatible."

There was a moment of uneasy sound that might have been the equivalent of a nervous chuckle, and then the doctor scurried into the back room.

Angel fought the impulse to brood about frightening the alien doctor, and the other impulse, which he blamed on his demon, to chuckle about still being able to cause fear after getting almost squished by the alien bug-man. Maybe the doctor could tell him what had happened, though they obviously must not have done too badly if he was back on the Protector. He was fairly certain that Willow's spell had helped, and decided not to think too much on what that said about her power. Instead, he let himself ponder breakfast.

"These should no longer be needed. Hopefully that will be sufficient for your needs?" Two bags of blood, both larger than the packets that Earth hospitals used, were thrust towards him in shaking hands. One of them was slightly less full, as if part of it had been needed to treat someone's injuries.

"Yes. Would you prefer that I do this somewhere else?" Angel asked, wondering if that would help the doctor to feel less nervous.

A hand gesture at one of the doors accompanied the words, "Perhaps one of the recovery rooms would be better?"

Slowly, Angel stood up. While he felt much better than the last few moments in the cavern, fighting the bug-man, he still felt a bit stiff. He didn't want to get light-headed from sitting up to quickly either. Accepting the blood, he stepped into the room, sighing as the door closed behind him.

The room smelled faintly of Cordelia. Angel frowned, wondering just what could have landed his Seer in the med-lab, considering that the basic check-up had been done in the outer area. Deciding to ponder that later, he bit down on the first packet.

Several swallows into the packet, he realized that this blood tasted faintly like Cordelia as well. Many of the things that a vampire looked for in blood to add flavor simply weren't there, which should have been impossible. No traces of emotion, no traces left by what the person had or hadn't eaten. Of course, they had said that they could use some sort of technology to make more blood.

Angel finished the blood, folding the empty packets and dropping them into what he was fairly certain was a trash-can. He felt much better, and for once, he felt no traces of hunger, and no guilt from that lack. Maybe he should go find Gwen, they could try to talk about the future, if they had a future.

End part 51.


	19. parts 52 and 53

Guy smiled at his men, both the ones who had remained on the ship and the ones who had gone to the surface as the landing party. "Well done, men! You were ready for the enemy, and they didn't catch you off-guard with any of their tricks."

"If we had been caught unaware, would that have resulted in painless unconsciousness instead of just getting hit in the gut and then on the head?" one of the men asked, fingers touching his swollen jaw.

"Most likely, the bad guys would have either forced you to help them with their plan," Guy paused, and decided to clarify something. "They're the bad guys, it would probably be an evil plan. Terror, violence, attacks against innocent people… that sort of thing. If they didn't think they could make you cooperate, they would have killed you."

"Their fighters in the tunnels were quite eager to attempt to kill us," Commented one of the landing party, his arm bandaged. "They shot at us with blasters, and attempted to break our bodies. Jannakia was even bitten by one of their sharp-toothed ground troops."

"Stop dwelling on that, focus on the fact that we didn't let them take our ship, you didn't let yourselves get ambushed in the tunnels, and most importantly, none of you died." Guy insisted, and then smiled at them. "I'm proud of you guys. You did good, and I can only say that while I'd like to take the credit for that, a lot of it probably belongs to the other people who helped you learn everything that you brought onto this ship with you."

"We could not have prevailed without you and your advice!" countered the Thermian with the bruised chin. "Without your caution, I would not have suspected the apparently wounded men in the shuttle."

"Okay, let's just say good job all around," Guy decided. "I hope you're all ready the next time something happens."

Alex Dane walked through the corridors of the Protector, searching for Willow. He wanted to find her and reassure himself that she was safe. He wanted to go home so he could get this infuriating head-cap off and scratch at every tiny itch that had grown up from being unable to touch his scalp. He wanted to be back in California, where nobody's life could end up dependant on his lack of medical knowledge.

Finally, he found her, curled up in a corner lounge with a cup of tea, several empty cups, and one of the hand held units that served some sort of purpose for the Thermians. She looked rather pale, and kept frowning at the device, but he was still delighted to see her. "Willow!"

"Oh, Alex," She murmured, hugging him. "I'm glad that you're okay."

"As Jason pointed out to me, I remained on the ship, out of direct danger unless they managed to take it over." His arms remained around her, and he sighed. "You look worn."

"I was trying to give them a little protection," Willow blushed, and mumbled, "It was a bit more than I really should have tried."

"What are you doing now?" Alex settled onto the couch, pulling her to sit next to him.

"I think that maybe some of the Thermians might be able to learn magic. Or at least, there's no reason I'm aware of why they couldn't, so I'm trying to make a basic magical how-to guide. One of the people in Communications gave me that, h promised that it would take my words and write them in Thermian." Willow sighed, and leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you're strong enough for that?" Alex murmured, his hand rubbing at her shoulder.

"It's just talking to a metal box," she protested. "I can dictate a few basic things, and then hopefully there's some sort of mystical tradition or legends or something for them to follow to give them more advanced instructions."

"I don't recall ever hearing anything like that about the Thermians…" Alex mused, and then took another look at the stack of empty cups. "How much tea have you been drinking?"

"Umm… the first one was coffee, or at least, I asked for coffee. I don't think the stuff that it gave me was really coffee, it tasted… umm… distinctly un-coffee-like," Willow tried to evade answering. "I just felt really wiped out, even after I woke up."

Hearing footsteps echoing in the hallway, Alex spoke in a clear voice. "As a doctor, I suggest you not over extend yourself."

Willow giggled, and whispered in a voice barely loud enough for him to hear, "I thought you just played one on television?"

"Shhh…" He put a finger over her lips. "Now, what sort of things are you putting in this instruction guide?"

"Well, I figured that I'd start with the basics, how to tell if someone's got it. Then a few simple exercises to develop control… The sort of stuff that I would have loved to have had when I was learning." Willow sighed, and rubbed at her temple. "Cordelia went looking for Jason."

"Is it related to his reactions about Angel? Or was there something else?" Alex murmured, less worried about Jason's relationship problems than the chance that Willow would be upset on her friend's behalf.

"Yeah. She thinks this could be the end of them as a them, and she wants to go talk to him. At the least, he's going to have questions, and she's probably got a few about this," one hand waved about, indicating the Protector, the Thermians, and space.

"Is she heartbroken?" Alex tried to picture Cordelia in that situation, but couldn't quite. Maybe he just didn't know her well enough.

"I think annoyed would be closer," Willow admitted. "And she said something about surgery?"

"It was a small procedure, something that Dr. Teirell and his staff believe will help her with the visions. If it works as expected, the pain will be reduced, and there will be no long term effects of the vision." Alex remembered her concern as they'd explained the procedure, and elaborated. "They were leaving an imbalance of the neurotransmitters, which caused the pain. Unfortunately, it wasn't correcting itself before her next vision, and the increasing imbalance would have had severe effects, possibly fatal ones."

"Yikes. But this will help her, right?" Willow asked.

"We hope so. That's all the more we can do right now."

End part 52.

Gwen DeMarco had never expected that her life would be spectacular. She'd attended a community college, and her grades had been decent, though not exceptional. She'd gone into acting instead of 'a nice, sensible career like accounting or teaching,' taking bit parts, doing commercials, and even a couple magazine photos. Gwen had hoped to make enough money at her chosen career to support herself, and maybe get a solid fan base. Awards like Oscars or Emmys, while a sweet dream, were beyond her expectations.

The same had gone for aliens, once upon a time.

While her career was on stronger footing than it had been in years, that new success went hand in tentacle with the Thermians, not that they'd intended it. With that new success and Laliari's continued presence, it was impossible for her to forget. Impossible for her to explain away some of the strangeness the way she'd explained away her bizarre cousin when she was younger, or several of her disastrous ex-boyfriends.

Aliens had been enough of a complication, but now things had gotten stranger, ever since they'd met Cordelia and her friends. Ever since she'd met Angel. Vampires were real, and she was dating one. Demons were real, and some of them watched the series. Magic was real, and she'd seen it on the set. All of it was enough to make her understand the sentiment 'ignorance is bliss', though she didn't want to return to that state. Ignorance could also be fatal.

She listened to the communications officers discussing things. There had been communications from one of the other ships of the Thermian fleet, and they were also tracking a shuttle that had left Earth, heading away at an angle. The shuttle was believed to contain some of the pirates who had caused this whole mess, and someone needed to figure out where it was going.

Part of her just wanted to go home. To lounge barefoot on the couch with chocolate ice cream, listening to music on the radio and traffic outside the window. Another part knew that when they finally got back to earth, if they still had jobs, they would need to finish filming that episode. Filming an episode seemed like such a simple thing now, in comparison.

Standing up, she tried to conceal her reaction to the way the communications officers looked at her. It was as if she was some great hero, when the truth was that's he was just an actress, practiced at pretending to cope. "I need to check on some of the injured people. Doctors Teirell and Lazarus will be able to answer my questions. One more thing… if that shuttle that we're tracking has a limited range, won't they be looking for somewhere to land? Another ship, or a station?"

"Very logical, Lt. Madison," One of them murmured, his eyes bright as he smiled at her. "Do you have any ideas where this rendezvous might take place?"

"If they don't want us to see them, they might be keeping something between us and them, one of the other planets or a moon. If they're brave or foolish, they might try to hope the asteroid field would hide them, but that would take solid shields or a good pilot, more likely both." She paused, thinking hard on her scant knowledge of tactics. "More useful, if we can't see them from here, the shuttle can't, and they'll need to contact them before docking. Listen and be ready to trace any other signals that are detected."

"Of course, if they must signal their allies, then we can discover them!" breathed one of the young Thermians. "Then we can capture their allies as well as the criminals."

"That all depends on how strong their allies are," Gwen cautioned as she walked towards the door. "You guys watch for that, I need to check on a few people."

She'd only gone a short distance towards the medlabs before she stopped, only inches from running into Angel's chest. "Ohh, You're looking much better now."

Angel nodded, with a half smile, "I feel much better now. Less battered, and it's easier to talk."

"What about everybody else?" Gwen asked, noticing the way that he'd turned, ready to accompany her, and held out one arm to her. "I'd thought it might be good to check up on everyone else, including Jason. He's not put together like a Thermian, after all."

"He's out walking around somewhere, unless Cordelia caught him. Apparently, she wants to have a few words with him," Angel snickered, apparently thinking those words might not be entirely happy.

"He did seem rather unhappy to learn about… well, everything." Gwen murmured, glancing at Angel. The bruises were almost gone, nothing more than faint greenish mottling around his throat, and his hair looked softer, less gelled and styled. She wanted to reach up and run her hands through his hair.

"How are you handling things?" Angel asked, his fingers tracing over the back of her hand.

"Sometimes, it feels like things can't get much stranger, and I think I can handle it, and sometimes it feels like if one more strangeness pops up, I'm going to scream," she admitted. "On one hand, the whole mess explains some things, and on the other…"

"On the other hand, knowing that the monsters are real frightens you," Angel finished. "It took a while for me to adjust, when I learned that there were more things than I'd thought were real. I hadn't expected Darla's world, what had become my world, to be so different and dangerous."

"You didn't know until you'd been turned into a vampire?" Gwen asked, thinking that was how his words sounded.

"No. I'd heard stories; everyone heard the stories back then. But I thought that they were nothing more than tales to keep us from misbehaving." Angel shook his head, looking up again. "They weren't just stories, and the stories didn't cover everything."

"It must have been terrible," Gwen whispered, leaning closer to him as they walked. She wasn't even sure where they were going, maybe one of the little lounges?

Somehow, they ended up in one of the viewing lounges, looking out at a brilliant expanse of stars. Angel stopped by the window, looking out, "They're beautiful."

"You're not so bad yourself," Gwen commented, placing one hand on his cheek. "How do you make me feel like everything will be okay?"

Angel kissed her, tasting like copper and temptation. "Because we both want things to turn out that way."

Her arms slid up around him, and she let herself melt against him. Kissing Angel again, Gwen decided that this was nice, and it would be good to take her mind off alien pirates and would be conquerors, and her potential job problems. There would be time to worry about everything later.

End part 53.


	20. parts 54 and 55

Willow closed the little device that really seemed to be a hybrid between a laptop and a tape recorder with a sigh. There were probably more things that she should include in this beginner's guide to magic, but she couldn't think of anything right now. Maybe after something to eat, or some rest. Alex had sat with her for a while, but he'd been pulled away to talk with Dr. Teirell about something.

"Handmaiden?" Malthesar was standing there, looking slightly rumpled.

Willow tried to smile, and patted the couch beside her. "Have a seat, I don't bite. Did you want to talk about something?"

"Some of the abilities that you and your companions have shown…" his words trailed away, as if he wasn't certain of how to say what was on his mind.

"We weren't what you expected?" Willow smiled, and tapped the laptop-like device. "I think that some Thermians might be able to learn magic, which is what I use. Quantum manipulations, if that term makes you feel better about it. Manipulating the surrounding reality by focused application of willpower. I'm trying to write up a guide book, but it's taking a while."

He nodded, gaze remaining on the device. "This book will take some time."

"Probably," Willow agreed. "Then, once it's written, it takes time for someone to develop skill with these abilities. Time, meditation, and practice."

"Meditation?" Malthesar repeated, sounding confused.

"You need to know exactly what you're trying to accomplish, and you need to keep yourself in balance, or else bad things can happen," Willow replied, thinking about some of the things that had happened to drive that lesson home.

"I'm not certain that it would be wise to keep all of you on the Protector for the time that it will take to finish writing a book," Malthesar said, and then frowned. "We need to find where that shuttle was going, and prevent them from continuing any dreadful schemes."

"But you'll still be in the area, right? This sector or quadrant of space?" Willow asked, part of her wondering if there was any way to take some of the Thermian information with her, though then she'd need to translate it.

"For some time, yes," Malthesar acknowledged. "Why?"

"Well, send us back to where you picked us up from, go get the bad guys, and come back for the book." Willow shrugged, thinking that it sounded like a simple enough plan.

"Yes, that would work quite nicely," Malthesar smiled, clearly relieved. "It will also prevent… unorthodox diversions."

"You mean it'll keep Ja… um, Taggert from playing hero and getting things shot to pieces, right?" Willow snickered as she thought of some of the episodes. "It will also lessen chances of the crew finding out the wrong things."

Malthesar nodded. "The discovery that one's hopes have been placed in what is not true is very discouraging."

Willow nodded, thinking of the way that she'd felt when she first discovered that monsters were real, when she'd learned that magic was real, when she'd found out that aliens were real. "It's not fun to discover that while you thought you knew how things worked, it turns out that you were wrong. Not fun, and pretty scary."

"Very true," Malthesar murmured. "You will be well, returned to the planet?"

"I think it would probably be better for all of us that way. But come back for the book in a while, and don't be afraid to come back if anything really weird comes up. Magic or demony… Some of us know about that sort of thing. If we know about what you've bumped into, we might have answers, and even if we don't, we know the sort of questions to find the answers," Willow smiled, starting to think that everything would turn out okay after all.

"Excellent. We'll just assemble all of you in one of the digitalization chambers, and prepare to send you home," Malthesar stood, looking relieved. "Then all we need to do is locate and capture the pirates…"

Willow managed not to laugh. 'All they had to do' indeed. Things were rarely quite that simple, though for Malthesar's sake, it would be nice if things went without any further complications. She'd work on a book explaining magic for them, and… Groaning, Willow realized that they hadn't actually finished filming that episode of the television series.

End part 54.

"So this is where you're hiding." Cordelia's voice held the warmth of deep space as she stepped into what was supposed to be a private lounge.

Jason turned to look at her, trying not to linger on the way her uniform clung to impressive curves, the way it hugged her hips, and had been opened just far enough to show a little skin without doing more than teasing. He didn't want to be distracted by her looks, he wanted to be annoyed at her for not telling him about this mess, about demons and vampires. Turning back to the window, he retorted, "I'm not hiding."

"Try that again with someone who'll buy it," she snapped, closing the door behind her.

"You should have told me. You should have told me about this nightmare." He didn't look at her. A corner of his mind wondered if maybe that was a bit unfair, after all, he hadn't been rushing to tell her about the Thermians.

"The way you told me about aliens being real?" She sat on the single chair, looking too much like a princess surveying a subject. "Oh course, how silly of me to realize that I'm the only one who kept secrets. Get over it."

"It was important!" He turned to glare at her, forgetting that he was trying not to be distracted. "I could have been killed down there if I hadn't known the front line was a collection of vampires! It's vital to share information in a military situation."

"You're not really the commander of a space-ship, you have no military background, and when I figured out what was happening, we did tell you. You freaked out," Cordelia shrugged, and then touched her temple very lightly, with a small wince. "If I'd tried to tell you before, why should I have expected you to believe me? If I'd said hey, Jason, all that stuff in horror movies? Well, a lot of it's real, they can kill you, and by the way, don't ever invite someone into your house after dark. You would have thought I was crazy."

"No, I wouldn't." Jason protested.

Cordelia just arched her eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. "Really?"

As he thought about what she'd said, he leaned against the window, feeling a bit less angry. She was right; he wouldn't have listened. It would have sounded crazy; it still sounded crazy, and now he knew it was real. "Maybe I wouldn't have listened."

"I was angry that you didn't tell me about the aliens," she admitted. "Of course, you probably didn't tell me for the same reason that I didn't tell you."

"It makes me wonder how much I really know you," Jason grumbled, still leaning against the window. Was Cordelia really the aspiring actress that he'd thought she was? How much of her time was taken up with this mess involving vampires and demons? He'd enjoyed the idea that she wasn't involved with him just because he was famous, but… Was she involved with him for being Jason, or some weird mumbo-jumbo reason?

"I may not have said everything, but what I said was true. And you have no idea what sort of nightmares Sunnydale left me with," Cordelia shivered, and then sighed. "If I hadn't found out, I'd probably never have lived to graduate high school."

"These nightmares…" Jason faltered, and then tried to ask. "I know you said high school was an ugly time that you'd rather not talk about, but I thought that was because… well, rivalry, arguments, crazy ex-boyfriends, that sort of thing. Bad hair immortalized in the yearbooks."

"My yearbook photos were just fine, even with the fluorescent lights," Cordelia huffed. "There was the frat-party where they tried to feed us to the snake-demon. The swim team turned into fish-monsters. Some kids got possessed and ate the school mascot, and then the principle."

"They ate the principle?" Jason gasped, hoping that she was joking. "You're… that's…"

"That was Sunnydale. It was officially listed as being caused by a wild animal attack, but a pack of wild animals, in the school, during the day, while class was in session? Get real." She shook her head, and then sighed. "I think the worst was finding my boyfriend and his friends dead in the teacher's lounge."

"Suddenly, a bad haircut doesn't sound so bad," Jason muttered, his mind spinning over her words. It was starting to make sense why she didn't seem quite so unfocused as most of the actresses that he met. "I think I see why you said you don't plan to ever go back there."

"And that's the tip of the iceberg," Cordelia declared.

Before Jason could say anything else, Gwen's voice emerged from the speaker. :Commander Taggert, Princess Mirabanna, please come to the Digitalization chamber on level four. Malthesar has decided that it would be best if we return to the planet's surface to make certain none of the pirates have escaped detection or set any traps.:

"In other words, they want us to go home and stop meddling," Jason grumbled. "I was having a bit of fun, except for the beaten up by vampires part. Wait, that was on Earth. Damn. And you do that sort of thing all the time?"

"As if," Cordelia sniffed, and then grinned. "I let the guys handle that most of the time, and stay in the back with a crossbow. It's also so much easier on the clothing that way."

Jason shook his head, and stepped towards the door. "Time to go home. I'll feel better once everything's back to normal."

"You say that as if this isn't normal," Cordelia said, following him. "Lead on to the digital room. Fearless leader."

It didn't take long before they were in the digitalization chamber, along with everyone else from Earth. Jason looked around, noticing that nobody else seemed to be as frustrated and confused as he was. Gwen was leaning against Angel, her hair mussed and she kept blushing when Angel smiled at her. Willow had one of those Thermian palm-pilots, and kept muttering words and phrases that lacked the rest of a sentence, presumably thinking out loud.

Stepping on the digitalization pad, he grinned at the Thermian manning the controls. "Let's go home."

As he felt himself flung through space, Jason wondered how he'd explain this to Marty and the rest of the staff back at the studio.

End part 55.


	21. parts 56 to 58

Cordelia smiled as she looked around the studio, covering the shaking terror that being digitized had left inside of her. She felt cold, and wobbly, and a bit disoriented. Fortunately, she wasn't alone; Jason, Alex, Gwen and Angel stood near her. People were staring at them, with wide eyes and startled murmurs. "I guess next time we should knock?"

A gangly man with gray hair was making strange gestures, as if demanding answers, and moved towards them. "Where have you been? We're trying to finish the episode, and half of my cast just vanishes into thin air! How am I supposed to make a television show with things like that going on?"

"Marty, calm down," Jason insisted, smiling at the worried man. "We're back now, and we can finish filming things, and life will be back the way it was a couple weeks back."

She heard a strange humming behind her, and there was a rippling feeling to the air. Glancing back, Cordelia was relieved to see that Willow, Alex, Fred and Laliari were now standing with them. It seemed like everybody was back on the set.

"Princess, go to wardrobe and get yourself changed into the white dress. Alex, your cap looks horrible." Marty was looking over them with worry that almost drowned out his professional panic. "What's the next scene?"

"Ah, yes, another scene. I was hoping for a bit of a reprieve," Alex muttered.

Cordelia smothered a giggle as she moved towards the wardrobe room. She assumed that she was walking, though she couldn't quite feel her feet yet. "Note to self, travel by digitalization is to be avoided when possible."

It didn't take long for her to reach the wardrobe room, or to change into a long ivory gown. A pair of make-up artists fussed with her hair, applying the extensive amounts of make-up required to look almost entirely natural under the stage lights, draping her with the sparkling pseudo-jewels of a princess, and arranging her hair. It seemed so entirely mundane and normal that it felt unreal, especially after the last couple days. After all, she'd been grabbed into space by a ship full of aliens who had shaped their military after a sci-fi series, believed to be a princess, had several mind-crushing visions, and let an alien doctor perform brain-surgery on her – and now, she was going to be in a scene for a television episode, as if everything were perfectly normal?

"My life is so strange, " Cordelia mumbled.

"What was that?" one of the make-up ladies murmured. "Never mind, open your mouth a little and don't speak, I need to paint your lips."

That slightly distanced feeling of unreality persisted as they filmed the scene, where Princess Mirabanna and Commander Taggert argued over some ancient ritual where a suitor could challenge for her hand. If the Princess had no other challengers or defenders, she would be forced to accept the suitor for a year. She thought the whole idea sounded rather silly and bizarre, but that was how the script read.

Naturally, the dashing Commander Taggert ended up challenging the unwelcome suitor. Since Taggert was the main character and the other guy was merely a random bit part, Taggert defeated Duke Omachiva, thus denying a quick, tradition-demanded year-husband for the Princess. Now, both suitors were supposed to spend the next year trying to impress the Princess to show what good husbands they'd be. It was almost funny, and the guy cast as the Duke was sort of handsome, and entirely awed by the chance to be on the show.

After a few more hours on he set, with several takes of her scenes, Cordelia was feeling much better. This was a simple matter of good lighting, proper wardrobe, and remembering her lines. This was what she wanted to do with her life.

But Jason wasn't really talking to her. It wasn't anything as blatant as a direct snub, but he wasn't really talking, not like they'd done before getting taken to the Protector. He was coping badly.

Cordelia had the sinking feeling that this meant they wouldn't be dating much in the future, if at all. If he couldn't even think about the whole mess with vampires and demons, dating her would only keep reminding him. She straightened her shoulders, determined not to let her emotions show. Not only did frowns cause wrinkles, tears would mess up her make-up, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this hurt.

Finally, Marty declared the day over, and waved towards the door. "All of you can go home now, or go out and eat dinner, go dancing, whatever. We'll start rehearsing the next episode tomorrow, for those of you who missed the announcement yesterday."

Cordelia meandered back to the wardrobe, and sighed. "Are my keys still here?"

"I think so, give me a few moments to check," the lady replied.

Cordelia leaned against the table, trying to be patient. She wanted to go home and have a long shower before going to sleep in her own bed, on her own planet. Things probably wouldn't really change that much, except that now she'd know there were more people out there than she'd known before. There would still be vampires and demons to fight, prophecies to sort out and foil, and apocalyptic plans to thwart. Aliens wouldn't change too much in her life, except that now she knew that she had some fans that were really out of this world.

It was too bad that once again, the weirdness in her life had cost her a relationship.

End part 56.

As soon as Marty declared the day's filming to be finished, Alex pulled the skullcap from his head. He let it fall on the command panel prop, and scratched at his head, relieved to finally have that thing off. Normally, it wasn't that bad, but he'd been wearing it for so long that it was starting to feel like some weird torture device. "Thank God for small mercies…"

Once more existing only as himself, Alex Dane, actor, he headed towards the parking lot, eager to go home. Jason was there, grumbling to himself. He could only catch a few words, but one of those words was 'vampires'.

Alex looked at his co-worker, and with an arched brow simply asked, "Finding a few things hard to swallow, Jason?"

"How would you like it if you discovered that your girlfriend's been hiding things from you, big, scary, evil things?" Jason frowned, and stomped towards the door. "I'd like to think the whole mess is just some delusion that she should find help for."

"You know better than that," Alex managed not to growl. He'd been a bit shocked when Willow had told him about magic and monsters, but he didn't recall stomping and whining around like this. "Do stop acting like a spoiled child."

"Yeah, I know the whole mess is real. That makes it worse!" Jason complained. "How am I supposed to deal with this? Vampires, demons, visions of the future… It's all too weird."

"Do you blame her for those things existing? Or are you just angry that you know about them now?" Alex strode towards his car, uncertain if he really cared what Jason's answer was. Honestly, the man was old enough now to be able to handle his own problems.

"I…" Jason faltered, and looked uncertain. "I don't know. But I don't think I can deal with any of this right now. Not with her crazy life."

"If you're wanting to break things of with Cordelia, then you should tell her, not me." Alex turned away from Jason, trying hard not to call him a shallow, self-centered twit. It was hardly Cordelia's fault that monsters were real, or that she knew about them. It certainly wasn't her fault that Jason couldn't handle the facts of her life.

"Good point," Jason called, turning towards his own car. "Now, I've got to call her and figure out what to say…"

Alex settled into his car, reaching into the glove box for his cell phone. He took a few moments to call Willow, passing on the warning that he was fairly certain that Jason and Cordelia would no longer be dating because Jason didn't think he could handle the strangeness. When Jason finally told Cordelia, she would probably be unhappy, and quite justifiably so, in his opinion.

As he checked his messages, finding only a few of importance, he considered what he'd learned. He definitely wouldn't be inviting any strangers into his home after dark, and it might be a good idea not to say the words to people that he did know. It would be a harmless enough change to make… at least he didn't have anything on his doormat, though he wasn't certain if that would actually be enough to let a vampire in or not. Some things, it was probably safer not to experiment with.

His messages were the usual mixed batch, a few calls from reporters, a couple calls thanking him for an audition but refusing the part, another that wanted him to come in for a second audition for a small part in a movie, someone trying to contact 'Becky-with-the-blond-hair,' an attempted survey, and two wrong numbers. "Ah, it's so good to be back in contact with the rest of humanity."

End part 57.

Malthesar felt inexplicably lighter as he received the report that everyone had been returned to the planet below. The artificial gravity generators were functioning properly, so it wasn't a physical lightness, but it was still there. The Commander was out of the way, and it had been accomplished in such a way that nobody had been gravely injured, nobody had been tortured, and the soothing delusions of the majority of the crew had been preserved. All further actions would proceed using logic and procedure.

It disturbed him to ponder the Princess and the Handmaiden very much. While the dark haired woman, whose name was either Cordelia or Mirabanna, he wasn't quite certain which, was not a true princess with a domain of ruler-ship, she did receive visions of the future. She did know how to move with grace and dignity, and she did know how to project calm assurance, all of which were good qualities for a leader. Her Handmaiden Willow truly possessed strange powers. Both of them were outside of what he was used to dealing with.

If Willow was correct in her belief that Thermians could learn to use this magic that she practiced, though he preferred to consider them quantum manipulations, things would get even stranger. She had promised to write up a guidebook for those abilities, and he was at once curious and nervous of what it would contain. Some sort of instruction manual for the development and training of such abilities…

No, it would be best not to dwell on such things. There were still pirates and would-be galactic conquerors to deal with. Tapping a button, he sent a message to the communications room. "I want to know the expected locations of all ships that might have any reason to be within four quadrants of our current location. A shuttle carrying two of the conspirators departed from the planet, and they are likely intending to rendezvous with another ship."

For a while, Malthesar let himself become completely immersed in the multitude of forms and records that a ship this size created. Logs to update, medical procedures and the expenditures of supplies to be signed off and authorized, injuries in the line of duty to note in files, both for the chance of awards and recognition as well as the possibility of medically dictated leaves from duty. Complaints to be sorted through, as well as the decisions of what actions, if any, should be taken.

:Sir? You gave the order that all authorized and charted ships be identified. Does that include the trade ships and their planned routes and the independent merchants: The voice was hesitant, as if he feared reprimand for the question.

"Yes, we need to know about trade vessels and the smaller merchant ships as well. While those traditionally lack the same measure of weaponry as a military vessel, they would easily enable the escaped criminals to travel further. It is possible that the criminals might send a distress signal, board a private vessel, kill or incapacitate the legitimate owners, and go on their way, to plan another attempt at conquest from a new base." Wincing, Malthesar admitted to himself that he probably wouldn't have suspected such a ploy before encountering the humans.

:As you command, sir. This could take a while.: The voice sounded less nervous now.

Again, Malthesar focused on his administrative duties. Another four complaints about the flavor of the coffee beverage, one of which held an accompanying request to make a comparative study of the brew resulting from the beans remaining from Tech Sergeant Chen's private supply. He swiftly gave approval to that one, remembering the way the brew that they had been drinking had smelled much more appealing that the replicator's beverage. Injury reports from the security guards who had captured the conspirators from the shuttle that had landed on the Protector. A request for a formal decision of what to do with the conspirators from that shuttle.

Frowning, Malthesar opened the drawer of his desk, removing a bottle of his preferred headache remedy.

:Sir, our sensors have detected a distress call from a shuttle.: This was a different voice, calmer, patterned more closely after Lt. Madison. :The name being used does not match any shuttle or spacecraft in out databases, but the frequency and source equipment appears to be an exact match for the shuttle that docked in our bays from the Coou'Eeeilo. I believe that there is a very strong probability that this is the second shuttle.:

"Has there been any response to the distress call?" Malthesar sat straighter, pushing the comuni-pad with his forms away. This was more important than sorting through complaints and injury reports.

:Not yet… wait, I'm picking up a signal. A merchanter ship named Teivennil is asking for details of their distress. I'm attempting to triangulate and find their locations based on the signals.:

"Excellent. As soon as you have a location, contact navigation. We must intercept the pirates before they can escape again." Malthesar could feel something inside of him tensing, not quite fear. Perhaps this was the anticipation of a good challenge? Or maybe that so-called coffee was having a worse effect on him than he'd thought…

Soon, it would be over.

end part 58.


	22. parts 59 to 61

Wesley sat behind the counter, flipping though the book in front of him. At first, it had been the simple desire to get a vague idea of the contents, so that he'd know when it would be good to drag out for in-depth research. Well, slightly more detailed than the fact that it pertained to ancient Egyptian funeral rites and sorcery. He'd wanted to know what researchers had been involved, if it connected to any particular types of demons or possibly surviving mystical groups.

He hadn't expected mentions of soul-magic. There had been a small reference to the embalming practice containing spells to bind the ka to the body, in order that the spirit might have an eternal existence on Earth as well as in the next life. His mind had seized the mention, wondering if it might be something applicable to Angel, some way to prevent him from ever becoming Angelus again. Now if he could just determine if there was any sort of details, something beyond a tiny mention...

The front door opened, and Willow and Cordelia walked in. Casually, as if they hadn't been completely out of contact for the past few days. At least the sunshine outside made it clear that they hadn't been turned, and neither one appeared to be seriously injured, though Cordelia was rubbing at her temple.

"Ladies, it's good that you've finally seen fit to come back. Perhaps someone could tell me what has been going on?" Wesley tried not to yell.

"Wesley, I had an acting job," Cordelia began. "Name one occasion when one of those went smoothly, with no greater complication than a broken nail?"

He managed not to scoff. "I don't think you've ever had an acting job without some form of complication or problem. What happened?"

"Well, you did know that I was called back to be Princess Mirabanna, for the Galaxy Quest series, right?" Cordelia asked.

"Yes. How does that connect to you disappearing?" Wesley demanded.

"It's…" Cordelia's reply was cut off as her phone rang, and she glanced at Willow. "Can you finish explaining while I answer this? It's Jason."

Willow nodded as Cordelia moved off to the waiting area. "Okay, the big shock is that there's actually a race of aliens out there that thought the original Galaxy Quest series was a series of historical broadcasts, their enemies attacked, they came here looking for their heroes, had a chaotic fight, the Thermians were saved, the series was renewed, and they began the second run. Apparently, they're still watching, and they caught the first appearance of the Princess, and there was this accidentally taped fight with a monster. So then they thought that the Princess and her Handmaiden were heroes too, and something bad happened, and they came back and grabbed all of us, and we had to help them try to capture some nasty would-be galactic conquerors. Apparently, that pig-thing that you and Angel fought was an alien thing, and led to a rock-monster. They said something about putting it on the moon…"

"You're what?" Cordelia's angry voice carried very clearly. "Because of that? You arrogant, self-centered jerk!"

For a moment, Wesley stared at Cordelia, wondering what Jason had said. Shaking his head, he turned back to Willow. "You mean that you really were kidnapped by aliens?"

"More like borrowed unexpectedly," Willow agreed. "But we're back now, and information that was shocking to everybody has been shared, and Jason doesn't seem to be handling the whole vampires are real thing very well."

"No, I do not understand, you idiot! You're dumping me because you can't handle the real world!" Cordelia's angry voice was nowhere near quiet.

"It's good to know that you came back safely though…" Wesley murmured, staring at Cordelia as she paced. "Is she going to be alright?"

"I think this will call for some ice cream and then Cordelia going off to pamper herself," Willow offered. "So, did we miss anything exciting here?"

"Well, there was a rather large rock creature stomping through downtown with an SUV wrapped around its foot. It seemed to just vanish, but apparently you were already aware of that. Fred is still at he physics conference, and Gunn has been spending time with his old associates," Wesley paused, trying to think if there had been anything else come up. "I did find something that bears further investigation as a means to secure Angel's soul."

"You did? Really?" Willow seemed to bounce, looking excited. "What did you find?"

"I don't have an answer yet," he cautioned. "But this mentions that part of the Egyptian embalmment included spells to bind the ka, or spirit, to the body. I thought that if we could find those spells…"

"Just a break, hah! As if I'm going to fall for the oldest break-up line in the book. It's never just a break," Cordelia growled, hurling her phone away as she stomped towards the kitchen. "Just because he can't handle things in my world doesn't mean that he had to break up like that."

Willow looked at Wesley. "Okay, you see if there's any phone to rescue, I'll take care of Cordy, we can finish explaining the last few days and discussing Egyptian rituals later?"

"Agreed," he quickly said, moving towards the couch. Jason Nesmith was obviously a fool.

End part 59.

Angel wanted to stay with Gwen, wanted to do quite a few things with Gwen. Unfortunately, there was that annoying Clause, and the chance that he might not be willing to stop before things went too far. So after a few very enjoyable kisses, they parted, and she walked out the door into the sunshine. Out where he couldn't follow.

"What did you do with my people? They've been gone, with no idea what happened, no way to get in touch," a gray haired man was screaming at Angel. " Now we're behind schedule. Do you have any idea how much their absence cost this studio?"

Angel spun with a growl, glaring at the little man. "There are more important things than making moving pictures. Sometimes, there are dangers more terrible than people like you ever know, things lurking in the shadows behind the lights. Those actors were called upon to help fight such a danger."

The man made a few noises, stepping backwards with a look of utter terror. "What… who… what…"

"I keep people like you safe from things that you don't even want to imagine, so that your life goes on, so that you can keep making moving pictures and signing paychecks. They helped fight, and you should be careful of Jason's ribs for a while, they were cracked. This wasn't their fault, and it wasn't my fault. If I learn that you're causing them problems because of this…" Angel growled, taking some of his frustration out on this annoying man.

The man's hands were moving frantically in a 'no' gesture, and he backed a little further away. "No problem, it won't cross my lips again…"

"Good." Angel turned and stalked away, going towards the basement level where every sort of imaginable prop was stored. Behind him he could hear the faint quaver of 'what was he?', but Angel ignored the man. There was also an underground utilities access, and he pulled the cover aside and dropped down into the tunnels.

There was a single vampire that was unfortunate enough to encounter him in the tunnels, and also slow enough not to get away. Angel beat him down before finally twisting off his head, unsure if he was annoyed that he lacked a stake or relived to have an acceptable target for his frustration. He'd rather be kissing Gwen. He'd rather not have to fear for his soul. He'd rather not be a potential danger to everyone and everything that he cared for.

Wiping the dust from his hands, he started moving again, back towards the Hyperion. Aliens were really real. It still seemed a little amazing, almost hard to believe, though the last traces of bruising where that bug-alien had tried to choke him were a reminder that everything had really happened. But now that they were back home, now that the alien excitement was over with, things could get back to normal.

By the time he was underneath the Hyperion, he felt a little calmer, and was starting to feel guilty for growling at that man on the set. It had been… well, maybe not uncalled for, but certainly excessive. At least, the fangs had been a bit much. On the other hand, he hadn't maimed him, even though it had been rather tempting.

The Hyperion seemed too quiet. He couldn't hear any music, no television, no ringing phones. Moving upstairs, he called out, "Hello? Guys?"

"Angel," Willow glanced up from a table, with a stack of books spread between herself and Wesley. "Hey."

"Research already?" He looked around, frowning slightly. "Where's Cordelia?"

"Upstairs, pampering herself. Jason couldn't handle the scary side of life and they broke up, so don't mention him for a while," Willow explained. "I don't think he needs dismembered or anything, not yet at least."

"Here, take a book and start looking for Egyptian soul bindings for the funeral practices," Wesley pushed a stack of tomes at him.

"Soul bindings?" Angel repeated, feeling a bit of hope. "Does that mean…?"

"It seems like a strong lead, but we need more information to be certain. Hence the books," Wesley said, gesturing at the table.

Angel settled into a chair, and grabbed the top book. "Are you certain Jason doesn't need a little lesson in manners? And will Alex be needing a few of those unhappy words as well?"

"Jason probably could, but I don't think it would help very much, and might be bad for Cordelia's acting efforts," Willow said, eyes never leaving the book that she was flipping though. "No mention of soul spells in this one. Alex is a bit disturbed, but I'd already told him about magic being real, and he seems to be coping. He's a bit surprised, and sort of shocked, but dealing."

"At least everything isn't falling apart then," Angel grumbled. Trying to push back the anger that some idiot actor had upset one of his people, Angel focused on the books. It wasn't an answer, but it was a lead, and if there was a possibility that this might secure his soul, might forever banish Angelus to the realm of dark and ugly past, then he'd look though a stack, a dozen stacks of thick books.

There was just something nagging at him about the whole adventure. Had they killed all of the vampire minions of the aliens? Had the Protector caught the shuttle that had launched from the ship? While he was wondering, "Why did the Thermian doctor have a partially used bag of Cordelia's blood?"

"Umm, that would be because of the brain surgery…" Willow stammered.

"Brain surgery?" Angel nearly wailed. "And nobody thought to mention this earlier? Is that why she keeps touching her head like that? What did they do to her?"

"It's supposed to help, Angel. Those visions, they're not just leaving headaches, and they were getting worse. They were leaving an imbalance in her brain, and if something wasn't done, she would die." Willow's words were low, still nervous. "Who else can we turn to for help? I haven't been able to find any spells, we don't have any demon doctors that we can trust, and a human doctor would think she was crazy."

"Lord help us all…" Angel sighed.

end part 60.

Gwen DeMarco picked up her keys, feeling relieved to be back on Earth. Back where everything made sense, instead of being just like something from television. Galaxy Quest was a job for her, she didn't want it to be her lifestyle. Granted, there were worse possibilities, lifestyles that lacked indoor plumbing and chocolate, but still… It was good to be home.

She was still relieved as she made her way towards the door, pausing as she heard Marty complaining about the schedule and the budget. She felt for him, really, but they'd been borrowed by aliens. They'd had to save the world and more from an alien threat… and it was almost incredible that she'd actually thought that. Marty started to yell at someone, apparently confident that he'd found either a scapegoat or someone too afraid to run away. Something growled.

She glanced over, seeing Marty yelling at Angel. She almost turned back, though she wasn't certain if she was trying to save Angel from Marty or to save Marty from Angel. After a few moments, she just shook her head and continued out the door. Marty yelled too much anyhow, and she didn't feel like getting ranted at on top of everything else that had happened.

The LA traffic promptly killed her joy at being home. Hundreds of cars, none of them going anywhere quickly, horns blaring, radios being played too loudly and with conflicting noise ranging from classic rock to hip-hop, techno, talk radio, the top forty, something about hair loss, some football game, and Dr. Phil. It took her an hour to get twenty miles from the studio.

Gwen closed the garage door behind her, and went into her small house. Her plants needed watering, the mail was in a stack inside the door, and her answering machine light was blinking at her. With a sigh, she watered the plants, and then started sorting the mail into categories - things to throw away, bills, credit card applications, and anything that looked like it might be of interest. Dropping the junk-mail into her trash can, Gwen pressed play on the answering machine, starting though her messages.

She didn't get the small part in the movie. A hang-up. Someone wanted to sell her life insurance. A man looking for Ginger West. Another hang-up. She didn't get the part of the secretary/spy in that action movie with Wesley Snipes. Someone looking for Tommy Keppler. A man's voice cursing the 'damned machine' and then hanging up. Her sister wanted her to call back so they could talk about Melissa.

Gwen blinked at that one, and then picked up the phone. She only rarely talked to most of her family, but got along fairly well with her sister and niece, but something had sounded wrong. Like Elaine was afraid, or trying not to be angry. Her sister didn't get angry, or afraid, that was why she was a teacher.

"Elaine? This is Gwen, what's going on?" Gwen settled herself into her favorite chair, preparing to listen.

:I think Melissa has a stalker. There's this man that's started following her. He's got a shop near her school, just down the street, and it's full of weird old books. She's seen him watching her at her swim lessons and karate class.: Elaine paused, and there was a rustling sound. :I think he's been watching the house a couple times too.:

"A stalker? I know we've got good bone structure, between my agent and the make-up artists I hear that all the time, but she's only twelve, that's awful young." Gwen paused, and her mind conjured all sorts of ugly fears. "I assume that you've checked the known sex-offender's list?"

:I've checked, and he doesn't look like anyone on the list. I can send you a picture of him. So far, I don't think he's tried to talk to her, but…: The familiar beeps of a computer were audible, and a tapping sound. :I'm worried. Melissa's my little girl, I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I just don't know what to do.:

"What do you mean? Umm, send me the picture. Have you talked to the police?" Gwen asked, her fingers tracing the pattern on the chair's upholstery.

:The man has a business, that just happens to have a window facing her school. Everyone's allowed to go for walks and her karate lessons happen to be at a public gym. Hundreds of people go to the mall or the gym for exercise. You can't call the police on someone who might have been walking down the sidewalk in front of your house.: Elaine sighed, and continued:He hasn't called the house, he hasn't sent anything to us in the mail. As far as I know, he hasn't tried to talk to her, or to… I don't know, go through the trash or her locker or anything like that. He's just… there. Watching.:

"I assume that her room has good blinds and nice thick curtains?" Gwen asked, now agreeing with Elaine that something sounded not quite normal.

:Of course. I just… It's freaking me out a little.: Elaine's voice was soft. :I'm hoping that you can help me out here, sis.:

"Well… maybe," Gwen sat up, remembering that Angel and his friends were private detectives. "I know some people, private detectives. I can talk to them, and they can figure out who this guy is and why he's always watching Melissa. Would that help?"

:Oh, yes, that would be wonderful. Thanks, Gwen: Elaine's relief was obvious. Maybe she had that much confidence in her sister, or maybe it was just that there was finally a plan for dealing with the strange man that happened to be in so many of the same places as her daughter.

She dialed the number for Angel Investigations, hoping that they could deal with something as ordinary ad a most-likely human maybe-stalker. Of course, talking to Angel would be nice anyhow… She felt a tiny pang of disappointment when the phone was answered by Wesley.

:Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless, how may we help you: Wesley's crisp tones made the phrase sound much more dignified than Willow or Cordelia managed.

"Hey Wes," Gwen offered.

:Ah, Gwen. Would you like me to give the phone to Angel: He sounded slightly amused. Muffled, she could hear him say to someone:No, not the budge, try the translation by Jackson.:

"Not quite yet. I've actually got some professional matters as well as personal." She turned on her computer, deciding to see if the picture that Elaine was going to send was there yet. "Apparently, my niece might have a stalker."

:My goodness. What do you know for certain: Wesley asked, not even arguing. :I assume that you'd like us to find out who and why:

"My sister said that she had a picture… yes, she sent it to me, I'll forward it on to you. This man apparently opened a bookstore down the street from Melissa's school. He ends up in the mall that has the gym where she has her karate lessons. He happens to be walking down the street where they live, at least twice a week." Gwen paused, clicking the picture to take a look. The man seemed so… ordinary. He could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty, not particularly handsome, but not ugly. His hair was a blondish brown that could have hidden gray, and he had light eyes. His clothing looked a little more formal and old fashioned than most, but even that was hardly enough to be weird anywhere, and certainly not in LA.

:Of course we'll look into the man.: Wesley's tone made it sound like a given, as if there was no other option for them than to look into the man. :Did you want me to pass the phone now:

"What are you researching in there? You said something about translations?" Gwen asked, curious. She still wasn't certain about everything that they did for their businesses.

:A bit of research on Egyptian funeral rituals, it's nothing that you need to worry about.: Wesley paused, and there was a thump, the sort that could have been a heavy book landing on the table. :What can you tell me about this man? Where is this shop, and when does your niece have the lessons that the man always happens to be watching:

"She goes to Eastwood Middle School, and the book store is supposed to be just up the street and on the other side, though I'm not certain the name of the road." Gwen sighed, and walked towards the drawer. She was almost certain that she had a program from the last school production that Melissa had participated in… Gwen explained the details of the school and her sister's worry as she searched for the program.

:Hello Gwen.: Angel's voice made her insides feel warm.

End part 61.


	23. parts 62 and 63

Jason Nesmith dropped the barbell in frustration. During this trip to the Protector, he'd learned some shocking and disturbing things, things involving Cordelia. She said that she had visions; she worked with a witch and a vampire… The whole mess gave him cold shivers. He'd called, explaining that he was having trouble dealing with this, and that he felt they should take a bit of a break in their relationship.

He wasn't really surprised that she'd found the idea not as appealing. She'd called him a coward, had shouted that he couldn't handle the real world. She'd accused him of dumping her.

She was right for part of that – he was having trouble coping with her world, with demons, vampires and magic. With her having visions of the future. A redhead floating teacups by looking at them and putting magic bubbles around them before they fought shape-shifting aliens. Blood-drinking detectives. Who wouldn't have trouble dealing with all of that?

He still felt guilty.

"Her life is crazy!" He shouted, despite the fact that he was alone in his house.

Looking away from the ceiling corner, Jason found himself staring at a picture of himself and Cordelia at some restaurant, smiling at each other. Somebody had snapped the picture, and it had ended up on page four of one of the gossip magazines, and he remembered hearing her angry voice demanding to know why 'whoever had slapped together a few pictures and called themselves an editor' hadn't been able to take a few minutes to find her name to run with the photo.

He remembered the Fangor beast attacking him on the set, and the way that she had chopped its head off with a sword. How many people in this day and age even knew how to use a sword? She'd used a sword to fight a horse-sized monster on the set, and hadn't even blown the scene, though there had been some improvisation. He certainly didn't run into too many women who could do that sort of thing.

Her other boss was a vampire. Someone… Something that drank people's blood. She fought monsters all the time. She handled being kidnapped by aliens just fine. She claimed… she had visions of the future, and had been willing to let an alien shape-shifting octopus perform brain surgery on her. Cordelia's life terrified him.

He was still going to miss her.

Finally, he dropped onto the couch. "Now what do I do? I can't deal with all of that chaos right now, but I don't think she'd be willing to try things again if I can come to terms with it."

End part62.

For a moment, Wesley felt a pang of jealousy after he handed the telephone to Angel. While Gwen DeMarco was a lovely woman, he wasn't precisely jealous that she was with Angel. It was more… more that he was jealous that Angel had someone, even if he couldn't quite have her as much as he might want. Willow had someone, and while he certainly didn't begrudge her that, he felt painfully aware of the fractured ending of his brief affair with Virginia Bryce. Cordelia… well, Cordelia wasn't dating that insufferable actor any longer, but she'd been trying.

Sometimes he just felt very alone, even amongst his colleagues.

He tried to shake away the thoughts as he walked over to the computer. It was a simple matter to access the company email, and then to find the message from Miss DeMarco, which held the address of her niece's school as well as the picture of the person making them nervous. Studying the picture carefully, Wesley frowned. Something about the man seemed familiar, though he was certain that he'd never actually met him.

He opened another window, and called up a map, with Eastwood Middle school. Slowly, he started to look along the street, hoping to find something on the businesses without actually having to drive over and look. Unfortunately, the bookstore wasn't specifically listed, which would indicate a website.

Looking up, he commented, "I'm going to go gather a bit of information for a case, I should be back in an hour or so."

"Do you need anything?" Willow's voice came from behind a stack of books.

"No, I'll be fine," he assured. "I actually have a suspicion, and I need to get a few names to try to verify the possibility."

It didn't take very long at all until he was on the same street at the school, dark and deserted at this hour. He couldn't keep himself from comparing it to the high school in Sunnydale, where he had first met Cordelia and Willow, not to forget the Slayers. The parking area was smaller, since the students at a middle school would all be too young to drive, though the buildings were a bit larger. At a guess, he thought there might be twice as many students, and he sincerely hoped that this school didn't have a Hellmouth under the library.

There were several houses along the street, interspersed with assorted businesses, a few small restaurants, and a small park with a basketball court and a cluster of tables. His eyes scanned over the coffee shop, noting the sign that proclaimed they had internet. There was a show store, with a number of people moving inside, and a banner proclaiming that there was a sale – all summer shoes 40 off – causing Wesley to shudder. It would take a rampaging Fyarl demon to send him in there, considering the example of Cordelia near a shoe sale. There was a candy store, and a hair salon, and then something else, with evidence of the recent removal of large signs. He moved closer, wondering if this was the store of Gwen's niece's stalker. Painted on the glass of a large window, simple blue letters proclaimed 'Jorkins's Books'.

That name was familiar. Wesley knew that he'd met someone with that name, or perhaps read it somewhere, and that it held a significance, but at the moment, it escaped him. Hoping that he wasn't rushing into a situation, he slipped inside the store, absently noting that it closed at nine in the evening, and that tiny crosses had been carved into the ornamenting around the doorframe. He'd have to ask Angel if that would have an effect on vampires.

The name 'Jorkins' was nagging at him, so familiar that he could almost taste it, but slipping just out of his mental grasp. To his relief, there were other people browsing the bookstore, occupied with the sections of modern fiction, the mysteries, the romances, the horror novels. Towards the back, the shelving changed, with language books, volumes on anatomy, animals, plants, collections of legend and folklore. He knew some of these books, had studied from them for years during his Watcher training.

Wesley had seen enough. Moving back towards the front, he lingered in the horror section for a few minutes, as if he had no other purpose for being here than to look at a few books for casual reading. Over there was the latest in a series written by one of the Watcher-trained men about a decade older than himself, a man who had decided that he hated being a shop-clerk, hated dealing with hordes of children, and as long as he'd studied all of this, he might as well use it. His so-called cover was a horror writer, and it actually paid him well enough that when combined with his Council stipend, he didn't need to have another line of work.

Jorkins was a Watcher family; the stalker was from a Watcher family. That meant that they had some reason to suspect that Gwen DeMarco's niece was a potential Slayer. On the bright side, there wasn't some twisted pervert lusting after her niece. On the other hand, her niece might end up fighting alone against the forces of darkness. Hmmm… Perhaps a pervert would be easier to explain after all? 

End part 63. 


	24. parts 64 and 65

Cordelia frowned as she stared at the promotional picture for the episode. Seeing Jason, even if only a picture, hurt, but there was something else, a nagging feeling as if there was something important that she was forgetting. The Princess and her Handmaiden, both in their flowing white gowns… It was almost like they were ready to be married, or sacrificed.

Everything went cold for a moment. She could almost hear screams echoing in her ears, the thud of bodies falling against a floor. There was no sense of where, or when, only an impression of cold, of harsh, unnatural lighting, and death.

The picture fluttered to the floor, and Cordelia staggered backwards, looking frantically for something, anything to distract herself. There was a picture of the Scoobies, after Graduation. They were still in those horrible maroon robes… Danger was in Sunnydale. Evil was preparing to attack Buffy…

Cordelia frowned, touching her temple. When wasn't some sort of evil danger in Sunnydale, preparing to go after Buffy? Something in her stomach tensed, needing to send a warning, wanting to shout into the night that there was danger, to be careful. But she had nothing specific. Just a feeling of something evil, and cold, and stalking Buffy… no, not just Buffy. Other girls, ones that she didn't know, had never seen before.

Leaving the room, she shouted, "Wesley! I need to talk to you."

She found him near a computer, making a few notes on a printout. He looked up, his eyes shadowed. "What's wrong? Did you experience another vision?"

"Yes. Maybe." Cordelia shook her head, and took a breath. "I had a feeling, not as detailed or specific as I'm used to. Something evil and dangerous, focused on Sunnydale. It's got a big problem with Buffy, only there were these flickers of other girls, nobody that I've ever seen before."

"Were they also blond girls?" Wesley asked, pulling out another paper and jotting down a few things. "Perhaps they dressed similarly to Miss Summers?"

"No, most of them were a lot less fashionable. They looked like they were dressed for a karate lesson, or a fight. Different hair, both color and style, not all of them were white. Most of them were younger than Buffy, but… Some of the flickers had people with them. Adults, and one had this nasty scar down his face, shaped like a lightning bolt." Cordelia sighed, and grumbled, "I couldn't even get a feeling of where they were, no references, just a feeling like I was cold, and the big evil whats-it is after them all."

"Hmmm…" Wesley closed his eyes, tapping his pen against the paper.

"I know, that's not very helpful. I don't even know if it's real, there wasn't any headache, no specifics… What if it's just paranoia?" Cordelia wrapped her arms around herself, unhappy and still feeling distinctly cold.

"It's not paranoia if there really is some evil brewing in Sunnydale, which there always is," Wesley mused. "A lightning bolt… The left side of his face? Pale hair, brown eyes?"

"Yes. I'd offer to draw a picture, but I'm not that good of an artist," Cordelia paused, considering the troubled expression and the way that Wesley had known what color the man's eyes and hair were. "He's real? Someone that you know?"

"He's a Watcher, a few years older than me. His sister was a Slayer, and I think he was sent to Australia. I think if I sent him a message, he won't laugh, even if it is rather short on details," Wesley offered. "Is there anything else bothering you, any other visions or forebodings?"

"Evil in Sunnydale," Cordelia commented, "Not that anybody's surprised. And I'm still so angry about Jason. I can't even look at the promo shots for the episode without going cold."

"If he can't deal with the darkness in your life, then he's not worthy of you," Wesley offered. "I'll pass on those warnings, to Mr. Giles as well. There might not be enough to look up the specifics, but if he knows, then he can be more watchful in case of clues."

"I guess we can't do much more than that unless I get something more specific," Cordelia agreed, pausing to see if she'd be struck by a sudden, full-sense, agonizing vision. It had happened that way in the past, after all. No sparks of pain and visions of people suffering or dying, no images of dire threats. "I'm just going to try to move on from Jason. Maybe I can go to Lorne's place and do some karaoke."

It was impossible to miss the way that Wesley cringed. To give him credit, he didn't say anything to insult her admittedly non-stellar singing. Instead, he gave a small nod, murmuring, "It never helps to seclude yourself and cry."

"I'm not that bad!" Cordelia insisted, glaring at him.

Standing up from the computer, Wesley started towards the kitchen, probably seeking another cup of tea. "Whoever said that I meant you?"

"Right, name three ex-girlfriends that you've had," Cordelia insisted, even as part of her felt bad for taking out her pain on Wesley.

"You. Karen at the natural food market. Virginia Bryce, whom I'm sure you remember. A quiet young woman named Audrey who works as a dental assistant. Natasha at a small bookstore back in England. Shall I go on?" Wesley scowled at her, before turning away. "It isn't that I haven't tried dating, it just never works out."

Cordelia blinked, feeling stunned that Wesley had named so many women, stunned that he'd found time to try dating, even if his luck had been as miserable as her own. "Sorry. I guess that I should have known I'm not the only one's had dating problems."

"Well, I can't be certain about Gunn…" Wesley offered a hesitant smile, "but the rest of us have had our fair share of disasters."

Cordelia lingered in the kitchen, trying to tell herself that she was only looking for some chocolate. That she wasn't really so miserable about Jason dumping her. A tiny whisper that she didn't want to think about wondered why her reaction to the picture was so different – every other time she'd been confronted with a picture of an ex-boyfriend, the result was either pain, or hot anger. Never a feeling of cold foreboding. It had to be because this might affect her career, didn't it? Didn't it?

End part 64.

Willow tried to ignore the slight guilt about the fact that instead of looking through one of the stack of books on Egyptian embalmment and magic, she was on the computer. Some of her online contacts had been able to come up with useful things before. She'd even found someone who'd offered to try to give a better translation of the original curse than a computer decryption program, because a person who knew the language would have a better understanding of context and idiom than a computer could. Of course, she hadn't actually said what the 'bit of something written in Romany' actually was, she didn't know if this particular contact even believed in vampires.

She had an email from one of her South American contacts, who had mentioned a seer in the jungle. Apparently, the woman was a bit eccentric, but had true visions of the past and the future. The Mulher da Sombra had said something about the stars, and a woman in them talking to her. She'd also had what he'd called a vision fit, screaming something over and over, clawing at her eyes. She'd cried out, 'Abaixo de você ele consome', over and over. It was baffling, because the two fragments didn't fit together – the stars were above, and what she'd shouted mentioned something from below, and eating.

She also had an email from Faith. They weren't the best of friends, but Faith sent her the occasional email, claiming that she didn't have a lot to occupy herself with while in prison. Opening it up, she snickered to read that Faith had caught the Mirabanna episode of Galaxy Quest on the television the other day, and had said that it made her think of Sunnydale. She also was fairly certain that one of the prison guards was part Caudate demon, though so far the woman didn't seem to be evil enough to break out and Slay. Willow typed up a reply to Faith's email, mentioning the recently completed episode with Mirabanna, and a few other minor things, as well as reassuring her that everybody was okay. After a long hesitation, she ended with a single question – have you had any particularly disturbing dreams lately?

Of course, Faith's dreams were probably about her past, the things that she'd seen and done. Very earth-bound things, even if they were horrible and terrifying. Maybe she should call that 'Earth-bound', things that were from this world, not the worlds and territories of the Thermians… though she really did need to work some more on that instructional book for them. Willow was much more comfortable with vampire and demon problems than alien conquerors.

Pushing the thoughts of Thermians working magic, and if they'd come up with rituals involving the precise motions of several tentacles at once or stick to human-shape spell casting, Willow picked up her notes on the Egyptian rituals. What they needed to find was a way to independently bind Angel's soul, one that didn't depend on his happiness or lack thereof. Something that was only dependent on him not being a pile of ashes and dust.

Picking up the stack of pictures that one of the Watchers at the British Museum sent over, she started to look at the careful sequence of images taken from the tomb of a Priest of Osirus. They appeared to show the embalmment process… A ritual there, just before the removal of the internal organs, speaking of marking the body for the ka. Eagerly, she looked ahead, wincing slightly at the depictions of the bodily organs being removed. There, after the initial treatments of preserving herbs… another ritual, and the placement of what looked like a small, red scarab inside the chest cavity. Was that a symbolic image, or part of an actual ritual? Over there, another picture showed two priests chanting or praying over a red scarab, clearly it was something important.

Her hands were shaking as she searched for the pages with the x-rays and photographs of the actual mummies. If the bodies had something in the chest cavities, if the red things were left inside as part of the ritual, then maybe… Maybe she was leaping to an unsupported conclusion. She didn't know, but the writing on the wall said the red scaraby thing was important. An X-ray of a prince, the younger brother of some pharaoh or other. He'd been buried with rings on his fingers, golden chains around his neck, and something about the size of a man's palm stuck in his chest. The side-shot suggested that it was flattish.

Willow grinned, tasting glee. All they had to do now was translate the pages of hieroglyphics that described the chanting over the red scarab stone, and talk Angel into letting them stick a rock into his chest, and they'd be set No more Angelus.

As she considered that, she found herself smiling. Angel knew that she'd restored his soul, which meant that Angelus also knew, or would know – she was a bit fuzzy on how much their knowledge overlapped. But she was fairly certain that it meant that if Angelus returned, one of his top priorities would be killing her so that she couldn't return his hated soul again.

"You seem to be in a good mood, for someone surrounded by old books and a beeping computer," Angel's voice carried across the room.

Looking up, Willow gave a small smile, noting that he held a mug that most likely wasn't coffee. Feeling impish, she called, "Angel, would you be willing to let us stick a rock in your chest?"

"Would I what?" Angel blinked, moving closer. "Why would you want to do something like that?"

"I found a ritual, sort of. Pictures of paintings on tomb walls of a ritual done during the embalmment, and as near as I can tell without being able to read all the hieroglyphs, it seems to be part of a ritual to bind the ka to the body. Do some chanting over the fresh body, before the ka could leave, more chanting over a special stone, put the stone in the body, and leave it there under all the wrappings. I know that we still need to translate everything, but…" Willow let the words trail off, confident that Angel would understand.

"Much more than a clue about souls and bodies," Angel murmured, sipping at his blood. "If it would keep me from becoming Angelus again, I'd let you put a rock in my chest. Several rocks. All sorts of things."

"I thought as much," Willow admitted. "Of course, I still want more than 'oh, look at the pictures of them sticking rocks in the mummies chests' before we try anything with you, and especially before you try anything with Gwen, but it's good to know that you'd still be okay with something like that."

"Honestly, the idea is a bit uncomfortable," Angel admitted. "But I think it's the same reasoning that prompted Cordelia to let a bunch of aliens perform brain surgery on her. She needed a solution, and they could give her one where nobody else could. I need a solution, and if it means sticking a piece of rock in my chest, I can do that. Umm… how big of a rock are we talking about?"

Willow grabbed the X-rays of the mummified prince, and showed them to Angel. "He's got a rock. The pictures on the tomb make me think it's carved into a scarab, and I don't know what type of stone it is, but that size. I think someone else would have to actually do the sticking it in part."

"That's not too bad. Better than a diet of rats for a decade or so." Angel considered the X-rays, and shook his head. "Considering how long he's been dead, he's in pretty good shape. A bit on the thin side, but I've talked to people who looked worse."

"I don't think he'll be talking to us, apart from the fact that he wouldn't speak any language we know, they pulled out a lot of his organs. That's an extreme weight loss program, and then it was followed by intense dehydration…" Willow took the X-rays back.

After four years, it felt good to think that they might have a permanent solution to Angelus within reach. Riding that feeling, Willow put down the photos and started to work a bit more on the how-to manual for magic that she'd promised the Thermians. For now, she just hoped that things would keep going so well.

End part 65.


	25. parts 66 and 67  the end

Fred Kwan smiled as he knocked on the door, calling, "Are you ready to come out? I thought you might like to go back to that karaoke club."

The door opened, revealing his girlfriend, clad in this close fitting purple gown. "Ready. Maybe we should try to have a bit less to drink this time?"

"No alcohol for you; got it." He held out his arm, and smiled. "You look beautiful tonight."

"I wanted tonight to be special," she murmured, her cheeks turning a distinctly lavender shade.

"Every night with you is special," Fred kissed her hand, and they left the apartment, hoping to once again find that fascinating karaoke club with the strangest gathering of people and creatures since he'd watched Star Wars.

To his delight, they did find Caritas again, sliding inside with a feeling of relief. There was just something oddly relaxing about the club, despite the strangeness of some of the customers, beings that would have looked quite dangerous elsewhere, despite the truly horrible rendition of Blue Suede Shoes being mangled by what looked like a humanoid stegosaurus. Settling at a small table, they ordered sodas and settled in for an enjoyable evening.

After a while, they relaxed over their drinks, despite the complete lack of alcohol. It was enough that they were together, somewhere that felt safe and welcoming, no matter who or what they were. Slowly, Laliari started to smile, and then she scribbled something on a paper, weaving her way between the people to give the slip to the gray figure operating the karaoke machines. Smiling, she slipped back in her seat, whispering, "I hope that we can sing our song soon, I think we can do better than some of them."

After a few moments debate, Fred decided not to mention the fact that a drunken cow might sound better than the current effort, a large creature that seemed to have about three times the skin needed, and presumably male from the deep bass voice. This did seem like a nice club, and there would be nothing gained by insulting the efforts of others. It took a lot of courage to get up in front of people and sing.

After a few more performers, including a trio of drunken tattooed, and pierced guys that might or might not have been human but were certainly tone-deaf, a sultry woman with impossible curves and a pair of bat-wings who put Marylin Monroe to shame, and a bony woman who's doubled voice sent chills down his spine, the gray figure waved at them, gesturing towards the stage. It was their turn to sing.

Fred could feel the corners of his mouth tilting upwards as they turned to face the gathered creatures. He was absolutely certain that most – if not all – of them were not human. Not that it mattered too much to him, but it might explain some of the singing, though there was no reason for humans to have an exclusive on tone-deafness. Laliari grinned at the audience, and the pair of them started to sing. It was an old song, one that had been done by several artists that he knew about, and probably more that he didn't. As he and Laliari crooned how 'Nothing Compares To You' into the darkness, he knew that they wouldn't be the third version of the song to reach the top twenty lists.

That didn't matter to him. He was here, with Laliari, and life was good. Nothing else mattered.

End part 66.

Alex Dane opened the door to the Hyperion Hotel, letting himself into the lobby. Tonight, he intended to take Willow out to dinner, in an effort to push their chaotic adventure to the back of his mind. While he couldn't forget his encounters with the Thermians, he'd certainly like the experiences to fade until he could go about his life normally. As normally as he could, at least.

Willow was sitting at a table, with a stack of books, gesturing enthusiastically as she spoke to Cordelia. Cordelia turned, and gave a small, sad smile at the sight of him.

"Your date's here, Willow. At least someone can find someone who isn't frightened away by the insanity of our lives," Cordelia grumbled, before sweeping up the staircase.

"She's still angry about Jason, isn't she?" Alex murmured, certain that his colleague was the source of Cordelia's annoyance. He understood her anger, and actually sympathized with her, but there wasn't anything that he could do to fix the situation. Jason had been an ass, and rather cowardly, and nobody else could change that.

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "We've been telling her that if he gave up that easy, she can do better, but… Between that and chocolate, she's doing a little better. It takes time."

"Are you ready for dinner?" Alex asked, smiling at her. Willow had obviously been preparing, as evidenced by her shimmering blue gown, but apparently the books had distracted her. "The books will wait."

Willow stood up, hands brushing over her dress in an effort to chase away any wrinkles in the fabric. "Dinner sounds wonderful. I'd particularly hope to be out when Angel and Wesley get back."

"Dare I ask?" Alex smirked, considering the way it sounded when she phrased it like that.

Willow turned pink, and ducked her head in a futile effort to hide her blushing. "They aren't out like that! They were meeting Gwen… and somehow that didn't make things sound any less kinky. Starting over, someone's been spying on Gwen's niece, she asked Wesley to figure out why, and they're off to give the explanation and make certain that Gwen's sister believes them, hence Angel needing to go."

"Is Angel going to make sure they don't get hurt, or is Angel going for vital information?" Alex asked, leading Willow across the lobby.

"He's going because he's a vampire, and they figured a little show should go with the tell part. All part of the more complicated version of why Sunnydale was a miserable place to live, and why Gwen's niece might be doomed to the same sort of interesting life that we have," Willow gestured as she explained, apparently oblivious to the fact that her explanation didn't really explain much to him.

Alex decided to ignore that whole confusing situation as long as possible. Along with the possible outcomes of the Thermians knowing about vampires, and apparently still monitoring Earth's television broadcasts. He really didn't want to know what sort of explanation for why a person was spying on a child would require a vampire. "You look wonderful this evening. Do you think we can manage an evening out without anything drastic happening?"

"I hope so. There's been enough excitement lately," Willow smiled, standing on her toes to give him a kiss.

Alex just smiled, thinking that a little excitement just between the two of them would be far more welcome than some crisis involving aliens, vampires, or demonic fans. For now, they had a dinner to eat, but after that, well, the idea of taking her off for a nice, long talk curled up in front of his fireplace held considerable appeal. And if they happened to do more than chat in front of the fireplace… Well, that idea was quite appealing.

"Maybe we can make our own excitement?" Alex murmured.

Willow's smile reminded him of the Mona Lisa as she softly agreed, "I think that sounds good. Then maybe you can only worry about acting, and I can be an author for the Thermians and a computer consultant for Angel, and maybe life will be good."

As they settled into his car, Alex hoped that they could make that vision of the future happen. Part of him was certain that they'd have to settle for a reality that was slightly less idyllic, but he could hope.

End part 67.

End Guest Starring.


End file.
